


Just Like Magic

by Ninja_Librarian



Series: Just Like Magic [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ADHD Lance, All Humans, And lots of nerdy references, Asexual Character, Asexual Shiro, Asperger's Pidge, Autistic Keith (Voltron), College!AU, Demisexual Character, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I swear he wears a different one in pretty much every chapter, Implied/minor homophobia, It's Riddikulus, Lots and lots of Pining, Modern AU, Muggle Qudditch!AU, Not a Harry Potter AU!, Quidditch!AU, Shiro owns so many nerdy t-shirts, Slow Burn, alternating povs, and misunderstandings, neurodivergent characters, pining pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 115,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/pseuds/Ninja_Librarian
Summary: When Pidge's family gave her an ultimatum--either find an extracurricular activity in which she could socialize with actual other human beings by spring break, or her parents would find one for her--she had no idea that would lead to her spending her weekends running around with a broom in her hand. She definitely had no idea that it would lead to her crushing on the Quidditch team captain...Just when Shiro's starting to think he's finally starting to get his life back together, he learns that his Quidditch team is under the threat of being disbanded due to lack of funds and members. However, he's determined to save his team, and beat Altea University's biggest rival--Galra Tech--in the biggest Quidditch tournament of the region. But how long will it take him to realize that he has slowly begun to fall in love with his newest teammate?





	1. Pidge

Katie “Pidge” Holt, of Altea University for Math and Science, was proud to say that she was perfectly normal and a well-rounded individual, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, her parents and older brother disagreed.

There had been an Intervention for the second-semester freshman the day before winter break ended. Apparently, her family was worried about how little socialization she had, the even less daylight she saw, and her terrifyingly huge caffeine consumption rates. Her perfect 4.0 grade point average and record of no partying, underage drinking, drug consumption or pregnancy scares apparently counted for nothing in this case.

Thus, she was given an ultimatum: either find some sort of extracurricular activity by spring break, or her parents were going to sign her up for ballroom dance classes for forced socialization.

She was sure this was all Matt’s fault, even more so when the first Saturday into the semester, when her brother banged on her door, waking her.

“It’s too early for this, Matthew. And too cold.” Pidge hissed as she opened the door, comforter wrapped around her and bags under her eyes, her long hair sticking up slightly from static electricity.

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning.” Matt retorted. Then, he smirked and tossed something at her, making Pidge scramble to catch the rapidly approaching object, tripping over the comforter and landing on the floor on her rear, just grateful that it was clean for once.

“What the—?” She said as she looked at the object in her hands with a frown.

Why the heck had Matt tossed a broom at her?

“Get dressed, or we’re going to be late.” He said, grinning down at her, reaching for the doorknob. “Oh, and dress in layers. Good, comfortable shoes.”

“Late for what exactly?” Pidge asked, looking up at him. His grin grew.

“Quidditch practice.”

*

“I seriously thought you were joking when you said you play Quidditch.” Pidge said, shivering despite her many layers of clothing as she trudged through the snow and slush alongside Matt.

“I never joke about Quidditch.” Matt said proudly. “A classmate of mine is the captain, he’s the one who got me into this.”

“What position are you?” Pidge asked as they approached the empty, snow-covered soccer field, where there were already a few other students with brooms milling around the bench, stretching. However, there was another girl, tall and olive-skinned with broad shoulders and a cute bob hair-cut, sitting on the bench with crutches beside her and a big black brace around her right knee.

“I’m a Chaser, and today so are you.” Matt said as they got up to the bench with the other students, who all immediately greeted him. “Hey, guys! So, this is my little sister, Katie, and she’s going to be our fill-in Chaser today.”

“Lovely to meet you, Katie!” Said a tall, dark-skinned girl with an English accent and her long white hair in a ponytail. “I’m Allura, and I’m also a Chaser.”

“I’m Shay,” The girl on the bench said, giving Pidge a smile. “Usually a Chaser, too, but, as you can see, today I’m just here for moral support.”

“Wait? Pidge?” One of the other boys said, brows furrowing before bursting into a grin. “Pidge!”

“Hey, Hunk.” Pidge said, smiling at seeing their lab partner from the previous semester. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hunk’s one of our Beaters, and he’s awesome.” Said a tall, lanky Latino boy, putting up his elbow against Hunk’s shoulder to lean on him. “Keith’s our other Beater, and really it’s just a good excuse for him to hit people with dodgeballs.”

Keith—an Asian boy with a mullet, sharp violet eyes and a scowl, arms folded over his chest, though Katie couldn’t tell if it was for warmth or just trying to look edgy—just made a small grunt in agreement while he scrutinized Pidge. She had a vague recollection of seeing him in the computer lab in the wee hours of the morning during finals week, wearing big headphones and sipping something out of an extra-large convenience store slurpee cup that she was 99.9% sure wasn’t a slurpee.

“And I’m Lance, Seeker extraordinaire!” The Latino boy said, grinning. “Great to finally meet you, by the way. Hunk’s told me a lot about you.”

Before Pidge could respond, someone came running up, a broom in one hand and a sports bag on his shoulder. Pidge had to do a double take when she saw him.

Despite a pink scar across his nose and a shock of white in his black hair, he was tall and bulging with muscles. And hot. Incredibly hot.

She felt her entire face heat.

Suddenly, the January chill wasn’t as noticeable anymore.


	2. Shiro

“I’m very sorry, Takashi, but my hands are tied.” Coran said, giving the young man in front of him a compassionate look. “Dean Iverson says if you don’t have enough players for a game or tournament, there’s no reason to keep the funding. You’re going to have to do some recruiting if you want to save the team.”

Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane gave the Athletics Director a friendly smile to hide his internal screaming and panicking.

Deep down, he knew this would happen someday. Altea University for Math and Science was world-renowned for its “nerd” status, and that there wasn’t much funding for sports—a rarity in America. And that meant that the group of weirdoes who spent their Saturdays running around with brooms between their legs got the very bottom of a very shallow barrel. Usually they were lucky if that meant their funds for a semester was twenty dollars and a coupon for a post-match meal at Denny’s.

“I understand completely, Coran. I’ve got practice with the team now, and we’ll talk about recruitment and fundraising ideas.” He said. 

“Ah, good!” Coran said. “Then I won’t keep you! Good luck! Shame about Miss Balmera’s injury, though. Give her my well wishes, won’t you, Shiro?”

Shiro nodded his head, then reached down to grab his bag of supplies with his left hand and his broomstick with his prosthetic right hand before leaving Coran’s office.

He couldn’t lose Quidditch. Couldn’t lose the team. He wasn’t going to.

He was going to find a seventh member.

And—not for the first time in his Quidditch career—felt a deep connection to Oliver Wood.

*

“Sorry I’m late!” Shiro said, dropping his bag beside the bench. He put on a smile, determined to put on a confident face for his teammates. He clapped his gloved hands together. “Okay, so I just talked to Coran and apparently he talked recently with Dean Iverson regarding our funding for the semester—”

“And the school’s actually going to give us funding for new uniforms!” Lance asked excitedly.

“The bus to take to matches?” Allura asked, eyes sparkling as she clasped her hands together.

“They’ll pay for our refs?” Matt asked.

“They’ll give us money to hire Snitches?” Hunk asked. “Because Rolo says he won’t keep coming to run around and play the Snitch at our home matches if the only thing we can give him is a coffee of his choice using Allura’s discount at The Castle.”

“They’ll actually make the soccer teams stop practice when they’re supposed to so we can practice and hold matches?” Keith asked, arching a dark eyebrow.

“Better official advertising for our matches?” Shay asked.

Shiro’s smile waned a bit.

“Um, well...” Shiro said, trying to keep nervousness out of his voice. He cleared his throat. “Uh, with all of the recent losses the team’s had… All of the founding members having graduated, Shay out for the spring season… Well, it’s down to the six of us. We need seven to play matches, and that’s without any alternates. If we don’t find a seventh and soon, the little bit of funding we’ve got is going to get cut. Which means the team will be disbanded.”

“What!” Matt, Hunk, Allura, Keith and Shay exclaimed with wide eyes.

“YOU CAN’T CANCEL QUIDDITCH, PROFESSOR!” Lance howled, making two passing joggers eye the group warily.

“Lance, calm down.” Shiro said, holding out both his hands, palms flat as if trying to stop a stampede. “We’ll just need to do some recruiting. We’ll find a seventh member easily.” He quickly looked at Shay and added, “Not that anyone can replace you, of course. You’re still an important part of the team, and I was hoping you would help me train our new Chaser.”

Shay nodded.

“I’d love to,” She said. “I’m just sorry I put the team in a bad place.”

“It’s not your fault you got hurt.” Hunk said, coming over to put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, but I’d still rather be running around with you all than going to physical therapy for the next six months.” Shay said, putting her gloved hand on Hunk’s. She then looked at Shiro. “How soon do you think we can start recruiting?”

“Already a step ahead of you, Shay.” Matt said, glasses gleaming wickedly in the mid-day sun. That was the first time Shiro noticed a short person standing beside Matt, bundled up heavily in winter gear, a green beanie covering their head and cheeks rosy red. Matt threw his arm around the short person and brought them forward. “Shiro, I want you to meet my little sister, Katie. Katie, this is Takashi Shirogane.”

“You can call me Shiro, Katie.” Shiro said, holding out his gloved hand.

“Only if you call me Pidge.” The young woman said, shaking his hand. He noticed her brow furrowing when she felt how stiff and cold his hand was underneath his knit glove, and he quickly pulled his hand back, hoping his face didn’t turn red as her soft brown eyes studied him.

“Shiro, Katie’s going to be our replacement Chaser.” Matt said, grinning widely.


	3. Pidge

Pidge was still staring at Shiro when she processed Matt’s words.

“What!” Pidge exclaimed with a jump, glaring at her brother. “No, I’m not! I didn’t agree to this! You said this was just a fill-in thing for today! I’ve never even played Quidditch before!”

“I’m sorry, would you prefer ballroom dance lessons?” Matt asked, eyes and smirk suddenly very wicked. “’Cause I can call Mom and have her take you shopping for shoes…”

Pidge gave a low growl, but then Hunk said,

“You said she’d be our fill-in for today. She’s right, she hasn’t played before, doesn’t even know the rules. Pidge should at least try it out before she agrees.”

“Oh come on, we need a seventh, Katie’s available, and we technically speaking she’s the best option currently available because we don’t know if any other girls will sign up and we need another girl in order to meet the requirements for Title Nine and Three-Quarters.” Matt said.

“Hunk’s right, Matt.” Shiro said. “We can’t force anyone to be part of this team. It has to be their choice. However, we do need another Chaser for today, and someone to hold that position until we find someone or else we’ll have to cancel our early season matches against other schools due to an incomplete team.”

“Ugh, you know Galra Tech will never let us live it down, too, if we do that.” Lance said, wrinkling his nose.

“Galra Tech is the least of our concerns if we get disbanded, Lance.” Keith pointed out.

“What do you say, Pidge?” Shiro asked, looking at Pidge. “Will you help us out for just a little while?”

Pidge hesitated and looked down at the broom in her hands.

“Can I go through one practice first before I answer that?” She asked.

Shiro nodded.

“Alright team, and Pidge.” He said, crouching down to open up the bag at his feet, grinning some as he pulled out a volleyball and tossed it lightly at Pidge, who dropped her broom in order to grab it. “Let’s get started.”

*

Pidge lay on the wet, slightly snow-covered grass, panting slightly after Shiro called an end to practice. Matt came and stood over her, chuckling.

“So, did you have fun?” Matt asked.

“Ask me again when I can feel my legs.” Pidge groaned as she sat up some. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that the Poptart she had scarfed down before coming here was clearly not enough for the energy she had exerted.

Matt laughed and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet.

“You did good, for a newbie,” Matt said, reaching up to give her ponytail a tug. “Which is both great and disappointing.”

“How so?” Pidge asked as she tried to fix her hair, glaring at Matt as she did so.

“It’s great because you didn’t embarrass me. It’s disappointing because it didn’t give me a chance to laugh at you.” Matt explained. Pidge stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, Pidge?” Shiro said, approaching the siblings, Quaffle tucked under his arm. “Will you come back and help us out for a while?”

Pidge thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah,” She said. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys out.”

Shiro grinned and Allura clapped while Lance whooped.

“Told you she’d say yes!” Matt said with a grin as he threw an arm around Pidge’s shoulders.

“We’re going to make you a permanent member before you know it!” Lance said, throwing an arm around Pidge’s shoulder. “Just you wait until you play your first real match, then you’ll be completely hooked!”

“Alright! Now for your shirt! You get a shirt! What are you, a small?” Hunk asked, tilting his head and putting his fingers together in a rectangle to look at Pidge through them. “Mmm, maybe an extra small?”

“All we have leftover is that one large that we got for the guy who signed up, but got expelled for cheating before our first match last semester.” Shay said, who had been digging around in Shiro’s bag for said shirt. “I think we can cut it to fit…”

“Actually, I have a great new design for this seasons’ uniform!” Allura said brightly. She ran to her backpack and pulled out a sketchbook with a t-shirt design on it, blue and white in Altea colors with the schools’ five lion and castle emblem, which was promptly oohed over by Lance, Shay, Hunk and Matt.

“Uh, hate to be that person, but we have no funding, Allura. We can’t get new uniforms.” Keith pointed out.

“No, but we’re going to.” Shiro said. “I’ve got to get to work now, but tomorrow afternoon, let’s meet up at The Castle and strategize for fundraising and recruiting. The club fair is next Wednesday, and we should have something ready for then.”

With that, practice was over and everyone began to gather their things. Pidge poked Matt in the side and said,

“You owe me food.”

Matt grinned.

“Fine, you little gremlin, let’s go hit McDonalds.” He said.

The siblings waved good-bye to the others, then headed off, brooms over their shoulders.

“So?” Matt said. “You liked it?”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Pidge admitted. She readjusted her grip on the broom handle and said, “Uh, Matt? Is it okay if I ask you some questions?”

“About Quidditch?” Matt asked.

“Uh, no. About… About Shiro, actually.” Pidge said, blushing some.

“About the scar and the prosthetic?” Matt asked. Pidge nodded.

“Yeah. Was he in a car accident or…?” Pidge started to ask, but Matt shook his head.

“I don’t know all the details, to be honest.” He said. “I think Keith’s the only one of us who knows the whole story, but that’s because he and Shiro grew up together and are best friends. All I know is he gets a bit self-conscious about it. People stare and sometimes whisper behind his back. Freaks him out.”

“Oh,” Pidge said, suddenly feeling uneasy. “Matt, I didn’t—”

“You were fine, Katie. I think Shiro likes you, too. The whole team does.” Matt said, giving her a grin.

Pidge smiled, relaxing.

“Thanks for introducing me to Quidditch, Matt.” She said. “I did have a lot of fun.”

“I knew you would, little sis. Now come on, let’s go eat twice the carbs we just burnt off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are going to get longer from here on out!
> 
> Title 9 and 3/4 is a real Muggle Quidditch rule. According to the U.S. Quidditch website, "A quidditch game allows each team to have a maximum of four players who identify as the same gender in active play on the field at the same time. This number increases to five once the seekers enter the game. The gender that a player identifies with is considered to be that player’s gender, which may or may not correspond with that person’s sex." (https://www.usquidditch.org/about/rules/)
> 
> This is actually the predominate reason I chose to use female pronouns for Pidge in this story, though I usually write her/them as gender-fluid with gender-neutral pronouns. But since Pidge would need female pronouns in order to play a match, I figured it'd be less confusing for everyone if I just stuck to one set of pronouns instead of switching pronouns whenever there is a match.


	4. Shiro

“Keith, I’m home!” Shiro called, dumping his bag at the entry to the apartment and kicking off his shoes.

Keith looked up from his laptop and lifted one side of his headphones briefly.

“I saved you some pizza.” He said, shifting to put his feet from the couch cushion to the floor.

“I would hope so, and that you didn’t eat an entire pizza on your own.” Shiro said, going into the kitchen and mentally sighing. Because he wouldn’t put it past Keith to eat a large pizza on his own in one sitting. Mostly because he had done so before. Regretted it immediately after when he went to bed with a stomachache and heartburn that lasted until the next afternoon, but that hadn’t deterred him the next time he did it. Or the time after that…

Shiro was the primary cook in the apartment. His best friend and roommate couldn’t cook to save his life, though he tried hard. Pizza or another form of take-out was the usual meal that Shiro came home to on nights he worked late. If he was lucky, Hunk or Lance or both would be over and actually preparing a home-cooked meal. Tonight was not lucky, though.

Shiro put a few leftover slices of pizza on a plate to stick in the microwave. He had just closed the microwave door when he noticed Keith leaning against the kitchen’s entryway.

“Go take off the prosthetic and sit down, I’ll bring your plate to you.” Keith said.

“Keith, one, you’re neither my mother nor my doctor.” Shiro said, hitting the one-minute button, making the microwave spring to life. “Two, I still have homework. Need two hands for that. Three, I’ll take it off before I go to bed.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll fall asleep with it on again.” Keith said. “That’s not good for you, and you know it.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. He knew his friend meant well, but right now it was a bit annoying. Especially since his entire winter break had consisted of his various extended family members hovering over him like he was still in the hospital.

“Keith, I can take care of myself.” He said. “I appreciate the concern, really, but I’m okay.”

“No offense, but you’re kind of cranky for someone who’s ‘okay’.” Keith said, watching as Shiro filled up a glass of water for himself. “Which usually means you’ve had a bad day. Which usually means you haven’t been taking care of yourself as you usually do.”

Shiro ignored him and angrily opened the microwave, pulling out the pizza. He slammed the microwave door shut again and strode past Keith into the living room, Keith trailing behind him.

“Shiro, are you okay?” Keith asked as Shiro sat down in his armchair, grabbing a textbook off the coffee table.

Shiro took a bite out of the pizza, then regretted it when it burnt the roof of his mouth. He quickly gulped down some water and said,

“I’ve had a really crappy day, Keith. Just let me eat some pizza and do my homework and forget all about today. If I happen to fall asleep wearing the arm, it’s nothing. Hey, if I happen to fall asleep and don’t wake up until the end of the semester, that’ll be great, too.”

Keith sat in the corner of the couch closest to Shiro, pulling his knees to his chest, studying his friend.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked.

Shiro huffed slightly then took a smaller, more cautious bite of pizza.

“Come on, you played Quidditch today, it can’t have been that bad of a day.”

“Yes, except since I fell asleep at my desk last night, I didn’t set my alarm, which means I overslept for the first time in forever. I didn’t get my morning run or gym time, or any caffeine. I was nearly late for meeting with Coran because I was almost out of the building before I remembered the bag with the Quidditch gear, learned that the team might get disbanded, then was late to practice. I barely had time to get cleaned up before work, got off a half hour late from the worst shift of my life with some of the worst customers ever, some of whom I think brought in coupons that were older than me. And, yes, I am in pain because it’s so quiznaking cold outside I was sure I had frostbite on what’s left of my arm, which already woke up sore because no, I didn’t take the thing off last night, and I’ve got another sinus headache and—”

“And today’s the anniversary, isn’t it?” Keith finished.

Shiro opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

“Yeah.” He said, reaching out for his glass of water again, listening to the faint whirring sounds his arm made as he did so.

Because of course everything went wrong today. Because of course all of his old injuries hurt. Because of course he was facing losing Quidditch.

Because today was a reminder of his own failure.

Because apparently looking in the mirror just wasn’t enough.

Shiro sighed.

“I’m sorry, Keith. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.” He said. “It was uncalled for.”

“It’s cool.” Keith said with a nod. “You’ve seen me on my worst days, and stuff typically gets punched on those days.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, glancing over at a strategically placed _Star Trek_ poster that hung on the wall. They weren’t quite sure how they were going to explain the hole in the wall to the building supervisor when they eventually moved out.

“You still in pain?” Keith asked, shifting some on the couch. Shiro nodded. “You want your meds? Or do you just want Tylenol?”

Shiro pondered the question for a moment, evaluating, debating. Finally, the raging headache and the deep ache in his arm gave him the answer.

“Yeah, it’s bad enough that Tylenol’s not going to cut it.”

Keith nodded putting his feet on the floor. 

“I’ll go get them.” He told Shiro, disappeared into their shared bedroom, then came out with the orange bottle.

“You’re going to need a refill soon. You’ve got about five more doses left.” Keith said, opening the bottle and shaking out two pills into his hand before passing them to Shiro.

“Thanks.” Shiro said, swallowing the pills and taking a sip of water.

“So. Pidge looks promising as a Chaser.” Keith said conversationally as he sat down again. That was the thing Shiro liked about Keith; unlike himself, Keith didn’t give any pep talks or inspirational speeches to make someone feel better. He just found a different subject to talk about, something distracting.

It was a good thing Shiro could talk and think about Quidditch for hours.

“I mean, she’s small and scrawny and not that fast, but she’s good at dodging Bludgers.” Keith said.

“Her aim’s pretty good, too,” Shiro added. “For a beginner.”

“I hope she sticks around. She needs to play at least one match with us.” Keith said. “I like her. Lance and Allura like her.”

“I wasn’t so sure about Lance. He didn’t seem to flirt with her at all…”

“Yeah, well, Lance has seen how hard Matt can throw a Quaffle. He doesn’t want to be on the other side of that throw.”

“Ah. And what about Shay and Hunk?”

“They like everyone.” Keith said with a shrug.

“True…”

“What about you?” Keith asked. “You like her?”

Shiro contemplated the question for a moment, remembering how Pidge had transformed from shivering and slightly annoyed at the beginning of practice to grinning and proud, almost smug, by the end.

The smile she had the first time she got the Quaffle through the hoop, right past him.

He liked that smile.

He liked the idea of getting to know the girl behind that smile better.

“Yeah,” Shiro said, not looking at Keith as he tore at the crust of his pizza. “Yeah, I like her.” There was a pause and he quickly added, “She’ll be a great addition to the team.”

Keith nodded and grabbed his laptop.

“I know you’ve had a bad day,” He said. “But, you should probably see this.”

Shiro set aside his empty plate as Keith handed him the computer. He then groaned at what he saw.

It was the Galra Tech Dracos Quidditch Team’s Facebook page, displaying a photo of the team, showing off brand-new uniforms for the spring season and thanking a prominent alumni—a recent graduate, who used to be part of the team—for their generous donation. Shiro recognized a few from previous matches. A goth girl who went by Haggar who—despite her lean frame—was an excellent beater along with a tall, broad-shouldered young man named Prorok. A tall, muscular guy named Sendak who was the team’s Keeper. A lithe guy with dyed purple hair named Haxus who was a Chaser. Lotor, the spoiled “prince” with long blond hair and male-model looks and egotistical attitude, who also was a Chaser.

And Zarkon, the Seeker and team captain.

Shiro greatly disliked Zarkon, and the two captains had butted heads previously. It got especially worse during the fall season, as Shiro was sure that Zarkon had orchestrated an illegal move that resulted in Allura having to be taken to the emergency room for a concussion, though the refs weren’t sure exactly what happened. Shiro was certain he was the only one who saw what had happened, as the ball was on the other end of the playing area, and that was where the focus was; not even the fans or Snitch had seen what had happened. Nevertheless, the Lions lost without Allura, and that cost them a chance to go to a tournament. The fact that Allura was slightly dehydrated and couldn’t remember what happened hadn’t helped, as Zarkon used that fact to support his defense that his teammates hadn’t harmed Allura, that she simply passed out from the heat and hit her head on the ground.

Really, this was salt in Shiro’s wounds.

But he knew Keith wouldn’t show him this without reason.

“What exactly am I seeing, Keith?” Shiro asked.

“I think Zarkon knows we might not be able to compete.” Keith said. He then reached over and clicked the mousepad, switching to the next photo.

Shiro scowled at the photo of the Galra Tech match schedule.

Beside the photo was a bit of text, that read:

**Spring Schedule, but matches against the #AlteaULionsQuidditch subject to change… After all, the Lions are actually just scared little kittens.**

Shiro made a low growl in the back of his throat and shoved the laptop back at Keith.

“Zarkon better watch it,” He said, pushing himself to his feet before storming off to the bedroom. “Because even kittens have sharp claws.”


	5. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spring Break Extra Update!

Pidge woke up early the next morning, a bit sore and achy.

She forced herself to get out of bed, though, and got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before putting on her sneakers and grabbing her iPod.

She could freely admit that she had very little natural athletic prowess. Furthermore, she could distinctly remember that—prior to the day before—the last time she had ran was her junior year of high school. She knew how easily she had gotten out-of-breath while running around and knew that if she was going to stick around on Quidditch for a while longer, she was going to need to build up her endurance.

She liked problems that had solutions that involved machines or computers. In this case, her solution was the gym treadmill.

Which is how she ended up at the student athletic center at seven AM on a Sunday morning. It was her first time there and she immediately felt a bit intimidated to see that the only other people there were a bunch of guys who could probably easily use her for weightlifting.

It also didn’t help that she had absolutely no idea what she needed to do, or how the equipment worked, or anything.

But she was confident. She was smart. A machine was a machine, and technology was her passion. Technobabble was a second language to her. She would have no trouble figuring out how to operate the machines.

So it was with all sorts of confidence that she stood on a treadmill and got it to work. She frowned as it took a few moments for it to actually start. In a bit of frustration, she kept pressing the “up” arrow, increasing the speed, thinking that she didn’t have it up high enough for it to start.

Unfortunately, Pidge was also unaware of a piece of advice that came with using a treadmill, and that was to not have your feet actually on the treadmill when it started.

So when the machine finally did begin to work, it was at an incredibly fast pace, and had started so fast Pidge didn’t have time to respond, sending her moving backwards and flailing.

Before she could respond or even fall off the end of the treadmill, however, she felt arms around her waist, pulling her off.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so.” Pidge said, eyes wide as she felt herself be gently lowered to the ground. “Thank you. Gah, this just proves that exercise is evil, right?”

Her savior chuckled and Pidge turned around…

Only to immediately turn beet-red.

Because it was Shiro, standing before her wearing black sweatpants, a tight long-sleeved black shirt, gray sneakers and a red t-shirt with a Star Fleet symbol on the right side of the chest. She also noticed that he wore one glove on his right hand.

“Exercise isn’t evil, just the treadmill.” Shiro said. He nodded his head towards the machine in question. “Red is probably older than you, and a little temperamental.”

“More like has a bad temper and is mental.” Pidge grumbled.

Shiro laughed and Pidge tried hard not to blush.

Dang, why was he so hot?

Then…

“Wait, did you call that thing ‘Red’?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah, because it’s red.” Shiro said, gesturing to the chipped red paint that covered the machine’s hull.

“Did you name all the equipment here?” Pidge asked, smirking some in amusement.

“Only the very good and the very bad.” Shiro said. “Uh, by any chance, is this your first time here?”

“I’d lie and say, no, I’m here all the time, but you are here enough to name the equipment, apparently, and can easily call me out.” Pidge said. “So, to answer your question, this is the first time I’ve stepped into a gym in, like, ever, and the last time I actually exercised before yesterday was in eleventh grade, and I soon thereafter hacked the school’s computers to make it so that I didn’t have to take another year of required P.E.”

The corner of Shiro’s mouth curled into a grin, but he said,

“No offense, but I kind of guessed that part. Well, not the hacking part—okay, actually, I take that back, you’re related to Matt so I shouldn’t be too surprised.” He said. “Anyways, you want help?”

“Yes, please.” Pidge said. Shiro nodded.

“Alright, so, you stretched, right?” He asked.

Pidge blinked at him, staring at him blankly.

“Uh…”

“Okay, no, then.” Shiro said. “That’s fine. Come on, I’ll show you how to get started.”

*

An hour later, Pidge was exhausted and achy. She had thought Shiro’s Quidditch practice was intense, and she was wrong.

The gym routine he had set up for her was hell and torture.

But she decided she was going to stick to it anyway, if for no other reason than the intense workout would make herself feel better later when she guzzled energy drinks and Oreos and called it a meal.

Plus, it gave her opportunity to a) spend time with Shiro and b) ogle him and every little bit of his muscle mass as he showed her how to do stretches and use the equipment.

She did wonder, however, why he seemed to be the buffest guy in the room, and yet he was also the most covered up. Which meant she was also starting to wonder how far up Shiro’s prosthetic went.

“I owe you coffee.” Shiro said suddenly as they prepared to leave the gym.

“I think that’s the other way around,” Pidge said. “I owe you coffee for taking time out of your routine to help out this noob.”

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you yesterday, for agreeing to be on the team, at least for a little while.” Shiro said. “It’s taken a lot off my mind, knowing that we have seven able-bodied players right now. And my understanding was that Matt kind of dragged you out there without much explanation, so someone needs to make up for that.”

“Well, he did buy me food after practice,” Pidge said with a shrug.

“Pidge, will you just let me buy you a quiznaking cup of coffee?”

“Only if you let me buy you one as thanks for helping me out this morning.”

“Deal.” Shiro said. “You live on campus, right?”

“My dorm’s across from the library.” Pidge said with a nod.

“How about we get cleaned up, and I’ll meet you in an hour and I’ll take you to The Castle.” Shiro said.

“Sounds good.” Pidge said. They quickly exchanged phone numbers, then went their separate ways.

It was only once she got back to her dorm and was digging through her wardrobe for clothes to put on after her shower that she realized that this was a kind-of date, so she needed to look nice.

That thought floored her. Literally. She sat down on the floor for a good whole minute, brain mush as it repeated:

_Kind-of date. Kind-of date. Kind-of date._

She shook her head, standing up and grabbing her nice jeans and her favorite dark green sweater.

 _Not a date,_ she scolded herself. _It’s just going out with a guy for coffee. That he offered to buy you. And he’s hot. He’s really hot. And nice. And… Nope, not a date._

After getting a shower, drying her hair and trying to make it look somewhat presentable, adding in a pair of silver stud earrings for a final touch— _not a date, just coffee_ —Pidge grabbed her coat and went down to the dorm entrance, immediately seeing Shiro standing nearby, looking at the screen of his cellphone. He looked up at hearing the door open and grinned at her.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Definitely.” Pidge said, grinning and hoping that she didn’t look dorky at all.

Nope, definitely not a date.

“Have you ever been to The Castle Café?” Shiro asked as they walked towards the campus gates and into town.

“I’d never heard of it until yesterday,” Pidge admitted. “Hunk said Allura works there?”

Shiro nodded and said,

“Her dad owns the shop, but he’s also a professor in the engineering department. The Castle was her mom’s, but… well, she died when Allura was a little kid. Breast cancer.”

“Oh,” Pidge said, heart breaking a little for the older girl she barely knew.

“Allura’s studying to be a medical researcher, and says that her career goal is to cure breast cancer.” Shiro explained. “But, for now, she and her dad are doing everything they can to keep the memory of her mom alive. So they run The Castle. It’s a quiet little place, and the team’s unofficial headquarters, mostly because if Allura isn’t in class or the library or practicing Quidditch, she’s usually at The Castle.”

With that, they arrived at The Castle Cafe. Shiro glanced through the window and immediately flinched.

“Oh no…” He said. “I am not caffeinated enough for this yet…”

“What’s wrong?” Pidge asked, leaning forwards and backwards and standing on her toes to see inside. All she saw was an empty little café—decorated in white and pastel pinks and blues—and a guy a little older than her standing behind the counter, completely focused on trying to arrange a basket full of peppermint candy just so.

“Slav.” Shiro said with a sigh.

“Slav?” Pidge repeated.

“A friend of mine.” Shiro said. “He’s a little eccentric… And high maintenance.”

“Okay?” Pidge said, feeling confused. “How so?”

Shiro sighed and pushed open the wooden door.

“You’ll see…” He said.

Pidge hesitated, but ultimately the warm air and aroma of coffee and pastries baking inside was too enticing. And so was the man holding open the door for her.

And so she stepped into The Castle Café for the first time.


	6. Shiro

The bell jingled above Shiro’s head as he and Pidge entered. Immediately, Shiro breathed in the smell of brewing coffee and pastries baking.

That breath was stabilizing. Calming.

It had to be.

Because he had to get through giving his order to Slav.

Now, Shiro liked Slav. He really, truly did. He counted Slav as a friend.

A very strange, very tiring friend, but a friend none the less.

Slav was tall and skinny, with copper-colored skin, a hooked nose that resembled a bird’s beak, big brown eyes that looked even bigger behind Coke-bottle glasses, and neatly trimmed black hair. Shiro first met Slav during his first semester at Altea, taking the same required class. Not many people went out of their way to be friendly towards the Pakistani theoretical physics student with OCD, but since Shiro was nice towards Slav, Slav immediately latched on to Shiro and proceeded to drive him batty almost every time they were together.

As Shiro and Pidge got closer to the counter, Shiro cleared his throat, making Slav jump and wrapped peppermints fly through the air, mostly landing on the counter.

“Awwww…” Slav groaned. “Now I’ll have to start all over…”

“Start what all over?” Pidge asked.

“Getting them to perfection!” Slav said, gesturing to the now-ruined bowl of peppermints. Pidge frowned.

“Uh, they look okay to me?” She said.

“No, no, no.” Slav said, shaking his head, tssking slightly as he picked up the peppermints on the counter. “The fate of people in other realities rests on this being arranged just so…”

“Slav, the fate of people in this reality rests on you taking their coffee orders.” Shiro said. “I am one of them, because I haven’t had caffeine this morning and it’s starting to show. And you are one of them, because this is literally your job. You need your paycheck.”

Slav blinked his owlish eyes at Shiro and said,

“Oh, alright. But if you suddenly disappear in another reality, it is not my fault, Shiro. It is the peppermints.”

“Okay, then.” Shiro said with a shrug, relieved to have gotten off so easily. Perhaps this was the universe’s way of making up for the previous day being so crappy.

“Like, disappear like “I forgot to charge my phone and haven’t responded to any of your texts” disappear, or just flat out don’t exist anymore?” Pidge asked. Slav blinked again, studying her, a small grin beginning to form.

Shiro bit back a groan.

Slav found someone willing to ask him about the alternate realities.

Pidge was doomed.

“Well, at this point, it is all muddled, as you can see.” Slav said, gesturing to the bowl again. “So, really there are many options. Death. Astral plane. Absorbed into a spaceship. Held captive by an evil empire. On another planet. Sent through time. Sent to an alternate reality. Getting a sandwich.”

“Okay, but if you disappear, does that mean you can come back though?” Pidge asked, leaning forward to study the bowl of peppermints more closely. “If ‘disappear’ doesn’t mean death?”

“Well, of course!” Slav said. “And once I have this bowl to perfection, I will make sure that Shiro reappears in whatever reality he disappeared in!”

“Wait, I thought me disappearing in another reality on account of the peppermints was only a hypothetical.” Shiro said.

“Eh, the probability of you disappearing in at least one reality is astronomically high at this moment. There is an eighty-one point sixteen percent chance that it has to do with the peppermints.” Slav said with a small shrug. “But, in this reality, the probability of you wanting your usual order is also astronomically high.”

“That probability is accurate.” Shiro said with a nod. Slav stood still for a moment, waiting. Shiro took a deep, calming breath and said, “Slav, can I get a large blackberry tea, please? Green, not black?”

“In this reality?”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense to order it for the reality I disappear in, does it?”

“Very true.” Slav said, starting to punch buttons on the cash register. Then he looked up and at Pidge again, frowned and said, “I don’t think we’ve met in this reality…”

“I’m Pidge Holt.” Pidge said.

“She’s Matt’s little sister.” Shiro said quickly before Slav could start to calculate the probability that Matt and this girl were related based on last name alone.

“Slav Betatraz, at your service.” He said. “Now, what would you like to drink in this reality?”

“Well, I’ve never been here in this reality, so I think I need a moment to look at the menu.” Pidge said.

“That’s fine.” Slav said. “In other realities, this Café does not exist. In some realities, it is you who is working at a coffee shop while serving us. In some, it is Shiro. In others, both. There is another reality in which you work at a Café and transform into a superhero fused with the DNA of a finless porpoise. Actually, there are quite a few realities in which you are a ‘magical girl’… Ooh, and several where you are a Paladin, a Defender of the Universe! There’s even another reality where you work as tech support at a call center!”

“Alright.” Pidge said with a nod. “But what do you—”

Shiro paled, eyes going wide.

“Pidge, no!” He said quickly, but was too late.

Pidge finished her sentence.

“What do you recommend?”

Slav’s eyes got even brighter.

Shiro actually let out a groan, putting his head in his hands.

Pidge had no idea what she had just gotten into…

“Well, as you can see by our syrup collection, you have several million combinations you can try.” Slav said. “But may I recommend you try a caramel, banana and peppermint latte with skim milk, whipped cream and cinnamon on top?”

Pidge slowly turned to look at Shiro with wide, horrified eyes. He held up his hands.

He tried to stop her.

“Um, uh,” Pidge said. “How about just a medium caramel latte? With the whipped cream?”

“Are you sure?” Slav said, tilting his head, looking a little disappointed.

“Yes, very sure. Thank you.” Pidge said.

Slav sighed in resignation.

“Can I also get two cinnamon scones?” Shiro said. “Pidge, what do you want to eat?”

“Uh, those blueberry muffins sound really good, I’ll have two of those.” Pidge said. 

Slav nodded and put them into the cash register. He then turned over his shoulder and called,

“Nyma! There’s an order to be filled!”

“Coming!” Said a tall Asian girl with bleached-blonde hair as she came out of the kitchen with a tray full of freshly-baked pastries. She smiled. “Hey, Shiro.”

“Morning, Nyma.” Shiro said.

“Usual?” Nyma said, setting down the tray on top of the bake-case.

“You know me so well, Nyma.” Shiro said teasingly as he reached for his wallet.

“Only because it’s probably one of the easiest orders to remember and easiest to make.” Nyma said. “Give me just a moment to put these up…”

Shiro nodded and handed his credit card over to Slav.

“Hey, I thought we were buying each other’s stuff.” Pidge said, looking up from her wallet as she heard the sound of Shiro’s card being swiped.

Shiro gave her a grin.

“Oops. I forgot.” He said, in a way that implied that he did not forget.

Pidge frowned.

“Alright, but now you know this means we have to do this again, so that I can pay.” She said.

“Deal.” Shiro said, sticking his card back into his wallet. “Let’s go grab a table.”

He and Pidge went and found a small table in the corner near the window, and Shiro went over and pulled out a chair for Pidge.

“Whoa, I thought this only happened in movies.” Pidge said as she sat down and Shiro pushed her chair forward.

“You clearly have never been out to eat with a gentleman.” Shiro said as he took the seat across from her.

Pidge snorted some.

“No, only Matt and my Dad. Now, Dad’ll do that for Mom, but Matt’s never offered and I don’t think I’d ever sit in a chair he pulled out for me. Never know what he’s got planned.”

Shiro nodded in understanding. He, too, would be hesitant and skeptical if Matt did that.

“So…” He said. “What’s your Hogwarts house?”

Pidge blinked her big, brown-sugar eyes.

“My… Hogwarts house?” She repeated.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. Then he panicked a little. “Um, you’ve read the books, right? Or seen the movies?”

Pidge grinned.

“I started reading _Harry Potter_ in first grade, and then had to do the whole waiting thing for the last two books to be released., so I finished the summer after third grade.” She said.

“Did you go get _Cursed Child_ at midnight this summer?” Shiro asked.

“Um, duh!” Pidge said, grinning. “Won a contest, too, for best costume. Got this little basket with Chocolate Frogs and Every-Flavor Jellybeans and stuff. What about you?”

“I pre-ordered and had it delivered, but I did the midnight releases for the last two books and almost all of the midnight premieres for the movies.” Shiro said. “Sorry, it was just you looked so confused, and obviously knowing _Harry Potter_ isn’t a requirement for the Quidditch Team…”

“No, it was just a surprise.” Pidge said. “Lately, it’s always “What’s your major?” and that sort of thing. Conversations about Hogwarts houses usually come later. But how about you try and guess?”

“Hmmm…” Shiro said, thinking for a moment. “Ravenclaw?”

Pidge grinned.

“Yes and no.” She said. “I align predominately with Ravenclaw, but I’ve got some Slytherin qualities, too, apparently. Pottermore agrees more with the Slytherin, so I guess I’m a Slytherclaw. Now let me guess yours…”

She studied him for a moment.

“Gryffindor?” She said hesitantly.

Shiro chuckled.

“Everyone guesses Gryffindor,” He said. “But, honestly? I’m a Hufflepuff, through and through.”

“Could be both,” Pidge said with a shrug. There was a small, cat like smile on their face. “Interesting combination, though. Is that a Gryffinpuff or a Huffledor?

“Both sound equally ridiculous and difficult to say with a straight face.”

“They’re still better than the American school houses.”

“Very true…”

Nyma brought over the drinks and pastries, along with the small container of honey.

“So you don’t have to get up and add it,” She said as she set the container down in front of Shiro alongside his tea.

“Thanks, Nyma.” Shiro said, taking off the lid to drizzle honey into the cup.

“So, you’re the famous little sister Katie I’ve been hearing about, huh?” Nyma said to Pidge. “You look just like Matt, you know.”

“Ugh, trust me, I know.” Pidge said. “He’s older but we’re always asked if we’re twins.”

“I can see why.” Nyma said with a smile. “So, let me guess. He dragged you into this weird wizard game, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “But so far it’s kind of fun. I’m told it’ll be a lot more fun once I play an actual game.”

“It’s pretty cool to watch.” Nyma said with a nod. “I can’t wait to watch you all play this season. Go Lions, and all that school spirit stuff.” She grinned. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to your date.”

Shiro had the misfortune of having taken a bite out of his scone when this was said, and proceeded to choke on the crumbs, coughing as he glared at Nyma as she gave a little wave before sauntering back behind the counter.

Across from him, Pidge had turned red and seemed a little shocked, unsure how to respond.

“Sorry,” He said before coughing again to try to clear his airway. 

_Dang it, Nyma…_

“It’s cool.” Pidge said, quickly grabbing her muffin and taking a bite out of it. They were both silent for a moment. Shiro dared to take another bite of his scone and sip his hot tea while Pidge nibbled on the muffin. Then, she paused and said, “So… Uh, how did you get into Quidditch in the first place?”

Shiro swallowed his bite, stomach beginning to churn.

He… Wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question without going into some details. Details he didn’t tell people who were still strangers. Heck, a majority of the team didn’t know the hows and whys of him getting into Quidditch and why it was so important to him. Where did he begin? How did he begin?

“Um, well…” He started to say.

But he didn’t get very far, because they both jumped to hear a tapping on the window beside them. They turned to see Hunk, Shay, and Lance, the latter of whom had been the one to tap the glass, grinning brightly. They both gave their teammates a wave and the three headed for the door.

The bell above jingled slightly as it was opened.

“Slav, my man!” Lance said as he strode up to the counter-top, where Slav was still arranging the peppermints in the bowl. “What’s the special of the day?”

“Oh, please tell me he’s not.” Pidge said, cringing.

“Oh, knowing Lance, he is.” Shiro said with a sigh. But it was a sigh of both exasperation and relief.

It was exasperation as he watched as—against the recommendations of absolutely everyone in the Café aside from Slav—Lance ordered the caramel, banana and peppermint concoction.

And it was relief, knowing full well he had dodged a bullet.

But he had a feeling that bullet would find him again, that Pidge would ask him that question again.

But for now, he had time to come up with a suitable answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think any of Slav's realities are a reference to something you've seen on tumblr or in fanfiction, you are probably right. ;)


	7. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Spring Equinox!

“Ugh…” Lance groaned, his head against the tabletop.

“I want it to be clear that I was only doing my job and following the order, because the customer for some reason is always right even when he is very wrong, and I am in no way responsible for any dissatisfaction.” Nyma said as she cleaned the espresso machine.

“We tried to stop you, dude.” Hunk said, looking at his best friend and roommate with pity.

“I’m not surprised you ordered it,” Keith said, having arrived just in time to see Nyma present Lance with the finished product and immediately begin question Lance’s sanity. “But you didn’t have to finish it if it tasted so bad, you know.”

“But I paid for it, I had to.” Lance said, moving his head so that his chin was resting on the tabletop.

“You should have spent that money more wisely, then, on a drink you would like.” Keith said with a shrug. Lance pouted.

“Is he always like this?” Pidge asked, arching an eyebrow

“No, he’s usually worse.” Matt said with a shrug before sipping his coffee.

“I resemble that comment…” Lance grumbled.

“Hi everyone!” Allura said as she entered the Café, the bell jingling cheerfully. However, Allura’s bright smile turned into a frown as soon as she saw Lance. “Oh no, Lance, what have I told you about ordering Slav’s recommendations?”

“To not to…” Lance mumbled.

“And Slav.” Allura said, looking over at Slav, who looked up from his new alternate-reality-protecting project, which had something to do with the alignment of the syrup bottles. “What have I told you about giving recommendations?”

“That it is ill-advisable in this reality.” Slav said. “But, in another reality, a caramel, banana and peppermint skim milk latte topped with whipped cream and cinnamon is Lance’s favorite drink.”

“In this reality, it was a mistake.” Lance said, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position.

Allura sighed and accepted the cup that Nyma held out for her, which Nyma had evidentially started fixing as soon as she saw Allura enter. She then sat down with her cup of Earl Grey, and pulled out a notebook, and several pens in multiple pastel colors.

“Alright, team, I officially call this meeting of the Altea University Quidditch Team to order.” Shiro said. “We need more players and funding. Any ideas?”

“Well, I talked to Coran over brunch, and—” Allura started to say, but got cut off by Lance.

“Whoa, wait. You had brunch with our Athletics Director?” He asked, arching a brow. Allura pressed her lips together at the interruption, but Lance seemed to not notice her annoyed look. “Like, with mimosas and stuff? I’m not sure if I’m more confused that people actually do that or that you had brunch with Coran.”

“Yes, Lance, there were mimosas and Sunday brunch is a tradition in my home. So, yes, I had brunch with Coran, and have had brunch with him and my father pretty much every Sunday of my life. Now can I finish telling you what Coran told me now?” Allura asked impatiently.

“Professor Arus and Coran are friends?” Hunk said, looking surprised.

Allura took a deep breath and said,

“Yes, Hunk, they’ve known each other since _they_ were in Uni and have been dating since my freshman year at Altea. Now, can we please get back to discussing Quidditch and let me finish my quiznaking sentence before I steal all the uniforms and dye them bright pink to spite you?”

“Hey, we would totally rock the pink.” Lance said defensively.

“Lance, please don’t provoke her. Allura, continue.” Shiro said.

Allura took a deep breath, then a sip of tea, and said,

“I asked Coran why our funding was so suddenly being cut. And he said that there were two reasons. The first is, we aren’t bringing in enough revenue. We’re a fairly small school, and we can’t host tournaments without having, well, won one. We are currently charging three dollars per person to come watch our matches, and we haven’t gotten a lot of people to come, so the cut that the school gets isn’t enough. We make posters, but it’s clearly not enough. Coran did say that he could give us written permission to start a social media presence. Anything we can do to raise the revenue would help.”

“We can advertise more here in town instead of on campus, such as at the local schools and library.” Keith said, looking up briefly from playing with the cardboard coffee-sleeve in his hands.

“Yeah, sell it more as a family outing sort of thing.” Hunk said.

“Could we up the price of tickets?” Matt suggested. “Maybe do five dollars per person, three dollars with a valid student ID?”

“Ooh!” Lance said, practically leaping out of his chair, hand in the air. “Could we sell snacks and stuff?”

“We would need to find someone to be in charge of all that.” Shiro pointed out. “The social media, the tickets, the snacks… We’ll worry about that in a bit. What’s the second thing, Allura?”

Allura bit her lip and said,

“Well, this is the thing that we’re not really supposed to know, so you can’t tell anyone. Coach Montgomery, the football coach… He’s going to retire after the next season.” Allura said. “He apparently has already told the board, so they can start recruiting and interviewing and making changes...”

“What does that have to do with Quidditch?” Pidge asked, brow furrowing, not seeing the correlation.

“Because, according to Coran, the board wants to hire a new coach, one that could give Altea a shot at winning tournaments. And doing so means cutting funding for certain programs to increase the salary of a new coach, to make the job seem enticing. We’re at the bottom of not only the athletic pile, but the entire financial pile. We were the first and most obvious funding cut.” Allura sighed and took another sip of tea. “Coran says he’s sorry, Shiro, but our current situation was the only deal he could make with Iverson for us to keep the team.”

“So, if we fail, it’s really all over.” Shay said, shoulder slumping. “We wouldn’t even be able to reapply in the fall.”

Pidge bit her lip and looked over at Shiro, who was scowling but sitting ram-rod straight in his chair.

“We have to win the spring regional tournament.” He said. “Altea has never won a single athletic tournament, ever. We’re going to have to be the first to prove our worth.”

“Then we’re going to not only not lose a single game statewide, but we’re also going to have to beat some of the best Quidditch teams in the northeast.” Hunk said.

“We’re going to do it.” Shiro said, firmly. “But it’s going to take all of us working together—on the field and off—in order to save the team. Shay, can I rely on you to be official co-captain? Even if you can’t play, I want you involved in making crucial decisions and to help me run correspondence with other teams, as well as help me recruit some more Snitches.”

“Yes, I can do that.” Shay said with a nod.

“Then I’ll need you to come with me to fill out the official forms tomorrow, including the media permission forms.” Shiro said. “Who wants to be in charge of the social media? Keith, you’re in programming and design…”

“I don’t have Facebook. Or Twitter. Or any social media experience.” Keith said.

“You’ve got the message board for people who believe in Bigfoot and Butterfly-Man.” Lance pointed out.

“Mothman, Lance.” Keith said with a frown. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s Mothman?”

“Enough for you to get that funny little wrinkle between your eyebrows.” Lance said, pointing to the spot between his own eyes.

Keith scowled, and Pidge had to hold in a laugh as the facial expression resulted in the little wrinkle Lance had mentioned.

“Katie, why don’t you take that job?” Matt said. “You’re good with computers and always on the internet anyway.”

Pidge flashed an angry expression at Matt briefly.

_Great, now Shiro is going to think I’m some loser who doesn’t have a life and—_

“Could you do that for us, Pidge?” Shiro asked.

“Yes!” Pidge said, perhaps a little too eagerly. “Yes, I can do that! Uh, just tell me what platforms you want to advertise on and I’ll get them set up and linked to post simultaneously and maybe I could quickly put together a website and—”

Pidge realized she was rambling, and that her face was turning red, but she couldn’t help it when she saw that Shiro was listening to every word she was saying.

“And, uh, yeah. It’s easy enough to do. No problem.” She finished weakly.

Shiro nodded in gratitude, giving her a smile that made her heart melt and her stomach do funny things.

“Lance, I like your idea about selling snacks. We can hold some bake-sales leading up to the start of the season to get some extra funds. Can I put you and Hunk in charge of that?” He asked, looking at Hunk as well as he spoke.

“You can count on us, Shiro!” Hunk said, giving the captain a salute.

“And I can get my younger siblings to come run a snack bar at the games if we wanted to.” Lance said.

“Alright.” Shiro said. “Allura, Keith, you two are in charge of designing all physical advertisements—including for the bake sales. And, Matt, you’re in charge of dispersing flyers and posters around campus and around town. If you need to get permission to put them up anywhere, tell me or Shay and we’ll negotiate with whoever we need to. Everything sound good? And any other suggestions?”

“Could we look for sponsors?” Pidge asked, raising her hand. “I was captain of the robotics team in high school, and the instructor and I went to a bunch of different business to sponsor us.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Shiro said.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Lance said. “Actually, why didn’t anyone on the team before us think of that?”

“Because Akira was in charge, and half the time he couldn’t find his broom between his legs while he spent the other half of the time trying to blow himself up in the chem lab.” Keith said as he put the coffee-sleeve back on his drink and instead began running his finger around the lid.

“True, he did rather unceremoniously leave Shiro a mess to inherit in the fall…” Allura said. She sighed. “I’ll ask my father about The Castle being one of our sponsors. I think it could be managed, plus it can count as a tax write-off…”

“Alright then,” Shiro said. “Let’s meet up Tuesday night and do some baking and poster making for the club fair on Wednesday.”

“Where should we meet?” Hunk asked.

“I’d offer my kitchen, but Father is hosting several members of the engineering department over for dinner that night.” Allura said. “They do it every Tuesday and it’s his turn to host…”

Shiro glanced over at Keith, who Pidge saw was still fiddling with his coffee cup.

“You alright with having everyone over on Tuesday?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Keith said, not looking up. “It’ll be a lot of scents and noise, probably, but I’ll be fine and I’ll let you know if I’m not.”

“Alright, our apartment, five o’clock Tuesday.” Shiro said. “Meeting adjourned.”

Pidge suddenly couldn’t wait for Monday to come, just so that she could get to Tuesday.

*

Pidge was, for once, glad for her heavy backpack. It helped her keep her balance with the huge grocery bag full of baking supplies that was in her arms.

Matt shifted the bag he held to knock on door 5D.

“I’ve got it!” Pidge heard Keith say from inside. He opened the door and grinned.

“Come on in!” He said, pulling open the door. Pidge was about to take a step forward and inside when suddenly Keith said,

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

Pidge froze, but then realized that Keith wasn’t talking to her, but rather to the black cat with white paws and white-tipped tail that he had scooped up.

“I know you want to say hi, but they’re coming inside, you goofy ball of fluff.” Keith told the cat as Pidge and Matt entered.

“Hey, we just needed to pass inspection.” Matt said, heading straight for the kitchen, where Hunk and Lance currently were.

Pidge sat down her bag on the counter, then went back out to the living area, where Allura sat on the floor beside Shay, working on posters.

“Where’s Shiro?” Pidge asked, setting down their backpack across from the other two girls.

“He got held up at work, he’s on his way,” Keith said, setting the cat down and brushing cat hair off of his hands onto his jeans. The cat padded its way across the room towards Pidge, immediately rubbing its head against her knee. Pidge smiled and began to gently pet the cat behind the ears.

“Well, aren’t you pretty?” She cooed. “And so friendly!”

The cat began to purr and hopped up into Pidge’s lap, basking in the pets.

“Is this your cat, Keith?” Pidge asked, raising her voice a little so Keith could hear from the kitchen. Keith stuck his head out and said,

“He’s Shiro’s and his name is Lucky.”

“No, it’s not.” Shiro said as he entered the apartment, kicking off his shoes. Belatedly, blushingly, Pidge realized that she was the only one who was still wearing their shoes and immediately realized that was a mistake, mentally cursing Matt for not telling her about this.

“The name you gave your cat is stupid.” Keith said.

“No, it’s not.” Shiro said again as said cat hopped out of Pidge’s lap to run over to his owner, who immediately picked him up and cradled him like a baby. “Your name’s not stupid, Keith’s just being mean, isn’t he?”

“Oh? It’s not stupid?” Keith said, arching an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. “Then look Pidge in the eye and tell her what you named the cat.”

Shiro did look a bit sheepish, but looked at Pidge in the eye, held the cat up some, and said,

“Pidge, meet Captain Jean-Luc _Purr_ -card.”

Pidge couldn’t help it, she gave a snort of laughter that turned into giggles. At this point, Allura and Shay, who were hiding their own giggles, burst into laughter.

“Shiro, you are such a nerd.” Lance said as he walked out of the kitchen, a plate of pizza in each of his hands, which he set down in front of Shay and Allura. “Naming the cat after a _Star Trek_ character and making it a pun to boot.”

“This is why I call him ‘Lucky’.” Keith said, leaning against the doorway. “Because it’s so stupid. Me and your brother and sister try to do something nice for you and get you a cute little kitten after years of you wanting one, and how do you repay us, Shiro? By giving it the nerdiest name on the face of the earth.”

“I was seriously considering _Purr_ -mione if Captain Purr-card was a girl.” Shiro said, sitting down in the living room arm chair, cat still in his arms and purring quite contently at the attention he was getting from Shiro.

“Ugh, I take it back. Thank you for giving the cat a nerdy name I can easily turn into a common pet name at the vet’s office.” Keith said.

“You lied to the vet about the cat’s name?” Lance said.

“Hey, look, it’s Shiro’s fault that all of the reminders are about ‘Lucky’ because he got called into work the same day as the first appointment with the new vet and begged me to not only leave the house and interact with strange people, but expected me to actually tell those strange people that the cat’s name is both a Star Fleet captain and a pun.” Keith explained.

“Right,” Shiro said with a smile. “Sorry, my mistake. Will never happen again. Trust me…”

Keith rolled his eyes some, but was grinning.

“Pidge, you want cheese or pepperoni pizza and how many slices?” He asked.

“Uh, pepperoni and two, I guess.” Pidge said. Keith nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

“How’s your project going, Pidge?” Shay asked in between bites of her own pizza.

“Pretty good,” Pidge said, fishing out her laptop and opening it up. “I’ve got the domain names registered, and most of the descriptions. I was wondering if you had any photos or logos I could use, though.”

“Nyma took some photos for us last season, and those are all on my laptop,” Shiro said. “But Keith drew a logo for us that’s on our uniforms.”

“It’s still on my computer, if you want to look at it,” Keith said as he brought back two plates of food, giving one to Pidge and the other to Shiro. “I’m going to stay in the kitchen; little further away from the Sharpie smell…”

“Sorry, Keith,” Allura said, giving Keith an apologetic look. “These were all I had, and I didn’t have time to get to the art supplies store.”

“No, don’t worry about it.” Keith said. “Anyways, like I said, it’s on my laptop, in the bedroom if you want to show it to Pidge. Filed under Quidditch Miscellaneous.”

“Thanks, Keith.” Shiro said.

Keith didn’t respond, just nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

As Pidge sat and ate her pizza, some things hit her all at once:

Keith said “the bedroom”. Not “my bedroom”. Indicating that there was only one bedroom in the apartment that two people lived in.

Keith asked Pidge what kind of pizza and how much she wanted, but not Shiro, but he brought out a plate for Shiro anyways.

And Keith evidentially trusted Shiro enough that Shiro not only had permission to get on Keith’s presumably personal laptop, but also knew the passwords to get in.

And Captain Purr-card was a joint gift from Keith and Shiro’s siblings.

Her heart sank a little as she realized what this all seemed to imply:

Shiro couldn’t and wouldn’t date her because he was already dating someone else.

And that someone is Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Shiro continues to prove his nerdiness...
> 
> Unfortunately, this wouldn't be happening if Pidge could read this story's tags... Come to think of it, this is the third time I've done this or something similar to the Pigeon... Sorry Pidgey!


	8. Shiro

“No, no, no, no, no…” Shiro groaned as he tried to get the prosthetic arm on. It was usually an easy process—fortunately easy enough for him to do with his non-dominant left hand—but today it was being difficult. Shiro took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Patience yields focus,” He told himself, repeating the words of his prosthetist, back when he was still struggling to adjust to the new limb.

Except he was already running late and was therefore running low on patience…

“KEITH!!!”

“Yeh?” Was Keith’s muffled reply from the bathroom, preceding the young man coming to the door to the bedroom, toothbrush in his mouth.

“When you’re done, can you help me with this?” Shiro asked, holding up his own arm some.

Keith nodded and ducked back into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later.

“Too tight or too loose?” He asked, taking the prosthetic from Shiro and sitting on Shiro’s right side.

“Tight.” Shiro said.

“But you wore the compression sock all night…” Keith said with a frown as he gently brushed his fingers around the stump.

“I know… I don’t know what’s going on, but I need it on.” Shiro said. “I can’t leave it off today. I need to take notes in class and there’s the club fair and I work tonight and—”

“I get it,” Keith interrupted. “Just relax, okay?”

Shiro tried to relax, taking deep breaths as Keith adjusted the liner that covered what remained of Shiro’s arm and carefully attached the prosthetic. Shiro grimaced at the tight feeling, but was able to move the robotic fingers, and that was the important thing.

“Has this been happening a lot recently?” Keith asked.

“It happens every now and then,” Shiro admitted. “Happened a lot when I first got it, but it’s become less frequent.”

Keith frowned.

“If it keeps happening, promise me you’ll contact your prosthetist?” He said. “She’ll know if it’s the arm or the stump and how to fix it.”

“Okay, Keith, I promise,” Shiro said with a sigh. “Thanks.”

Keith nodded, gave Shiro a pat on the shoulder and stood up to finish gathering his things for the day.

“It’s still okay if I borrow one of your t-shirts?” Keith asked as he put his laptop into his backpack.

“Of course,” Shiro said, digging through his collection of _Harry Potter_ t-shirts for Keith to peruse, and for himself to pick out which one—of many—that he wanted to wear.

Keith often said that Shiro probably had enough t-shirts, sweat-shirts and sweaters with an array of nerdy slogans, references and images to wear a different one every day of the year.

Shiro said that he was often surprised Keith had more than one set of clothes, the younger man’s closet full of black shirts and jeans, with the occasional bit of red thrown in, including Keith’s motorcycle jacket.

But wearing _Harry Potter_ themed shirts was Shay’s idea, and everyone liked it and all except Keith could claim owning a shirt.

“Can I wear this one?” Keith asked, picking up a soft black t-shirt with a white Deathly Hallows symbol on it.

“That’s the plainest one…” Shiro said. Keith shrugged.

“It looks soft. And it doesn’t have any tags. And you don’t have any shirts with my House colors.” He said, already pulling on the shirt over a black long-sleeved shirt.

Shiro grinned and stared down at the collection spread across his bed.

“Which one should I wear?” He asked, contemplating.

“You want to show your Hufflepuff pride or how much of a Quidditch nerd you are?” Keith asked, pulling on his fingerless gloves.

“Why not both?”

“Then do that one near your pillow.” Keith said, nodding with his head.

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” Shiro said, picking up the black tee with the Hufflepuff crest that read “HUFFLEPUFF QUIDDITCH”, all in yellow.

As he got dressed and gathered all the necessary things required for his classes, work shift and Quidditch recruitment. As he and Keith headed out the door, he told himself that him having to wrestle with his prosthetic was just a fluke, and not a bad omen for the day.

*

It was not a bad omen for the day.

It was a horrible, terrible omen.

Number one, it was cold. Very cold. So cold that it had started to snow again, meaning that—despite everyone having worn a themed t-shirt—the entire team had to bundle up in a bunch of sweaters and jackets and assorted knitwear.

Number two, Hunk and Shay were late; while Shay was recovering, Hunk—being her dutiful boyfriend as well as a good human being and friend in general—was her ride to and from campus, and they called to say that they got stuck in several snow-related traffic jams on their way to campus. The main problem with this was that all the food they had baked the night before was currently in the trunk of Hunk’s car.

Which wouldn’t have been so bad if, number three, Lance was able to get there on time to help set up as well. But Lance did physical training every morning—a requirement as part of being in the aeronautics/pre-astronaut program—and ended up calling Shiro from his dorm room, the Cuban boy’s teeth chattering as he explained that he needed to warm up and be able to feel his fingers and toes again before going back outside.

Number four, the prosthetic only felt like it got tighter on his arm with the cold, causing a lot of pain, though it was more annoying than anything else.

Number five, Slav stopped by the Quidditch team’s meager table, which was one of the few that hadn’t decided to cancel for the day. And even then, the chess team and the fencing team were packing up as Allura arrived with fresh hot drinks for everyone.

“Shiro, I’m starting to think that maybe we should call it a day…” Matt said as he held his latte between both of his gloved hands, taking careful sips.

“They’re probably going to reschedule the club fair,” Pidge added, accepting a drink from Allura.

“I want Hunk to get here.” Keith said, shivering as he held his coffee close to him. “He’s a huggable space heater…”

“In several alternate realities, you do not need to rely on space heaters or hugs from friends to keep warm, Keith.” Slav said as he approached the table, voice muffled by the layer of scarves around his neck and lower face, and only his glasses were visible from where he was bundled up in so many layers. “For, in those realities, you are covered in fur.”

“Oh, well, that’s…” Pidge started to say, but shivered and apparently couldn’t find a descriptor word for Slav’s statement. “Um, how are you this morning, Slav?”

“I am imagining that I am in an alternate reality that is warm, and being grateful that I turned down the scholarship to a school in Iceland.” Slav said. He looked down at the clipboard and various array of balls and brooms that covered the table. “It appears that the snow is interfering with your probabilities of getting new members today…”

“Even one signature would be good at the moment,” Shiro said, stomping his feet in the snow in an attempt to keep his blood circulating.

Matt suddenly had a devious grin and that made Shiro feel colder than he already was.

“Hey, Slav,” Matt said casually. “How about you put your name down?”

“Matt, I seriously suggest you consider taking into account my mental health and sanity before you say another word…” Shiro said.

“Relax, Shiro.” Matt said, still grinning. “You’re the one who just said you’d like at least one signature, and Slav doesn’t have to play if he doesn’t really want to.”

“The Slav of this reality definitely does not want to.” Slav added.

“Right, but you just need to make a big show of putting your name down, and maybe it’ll attract people over here.” Matt said.

Slav hummed a moment.

“Hmmm… Alright. The probabilities are strong that performing this action would benefit you all.” He said, reaching for the clipboard and pen. He cleared his throat and said loudly, “OH! WHY, YES, I DEFINITELY WILL SIGN UP TO PLAY QUIDDITCH! AFTER ALL, IN AN ALTERNATE REALITY, I AM ALSO ON A QUIDDITCH TEAM AT HOGWARTS! BUT, OBVIOUSLY, I DO NOT ATTEND HOGWARTS IN THIS REALITY SO THIS IS THE NEXT BEST THING TO ACTUALLY ATTENDING AN ACCREDITED SCHOOL FOR WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY! THIS ALSO APPEARS TO BE A GOOD OPPORTUNITY TO EXERCISE AND SOCIALIZE IN THIS REALITY!”

“Maybe selling it a little too hard there, Slav…” Allura said in a low voice as passers-by—on their way to class or the cafeteria—gave the table and the people surrounding it odd looks and a wide berth.

Fortunately, it did draw a group of people towards the table.

Unfortunately, they were the last people Shiro wanted to see that day.

They were the last people Shiro wanted to see ever.

“Oh, no,” Matt groaned. “What are they doing here?”

“I think that is my cue to leave,” Slav said, quickly setting down the clipboard and scurrying away.

“Who are they?” Pidge asked, poking her head around to see the group of young adults dressed entirely in black and purple.

“Galra.” Shiro growled.

Here came bad thing Number Six…

Well. Technically it was seven. Lotor was a problem all on his own. A overly bright, unnecessarily loud problem that overwhelmingly smelled like expensive cologne.

Shiro set down his coffee and folded his arms over his chest, giving Lotor a brief death-glare. He knew exactly what the spoiled ‘prince’ was trying to do. As long as he kept himself between Lotor and Keith, everything would be alright…

But, he still took a deep breath and switched his glare over to the approaching Quidditch captain.

“Zarkon.” Shiro said coolly.

“Shirogane.” Zarkon said in return, voice just as frigid, making the already freezing temperatures drop even further.

“Aren’t you missing your Advanced Basket-Weaving class?” Matt snapped irritably.

“Actually, we’re taking Microbrewing as an elective this semester.” Lotor said with a small smirk. His eyes focused in on Keith. “You’ll have to come by sometime and try my midterm project. I call it ‘The Sasquatch’. You’d love it, Keithy-boy.”

Keith frowned but said nothing.

“Back off, Lotor.” Shiro said, lip unconsciously curling into a snarl. “What are you even doing here?”

“Heard that Altea was having a club fair,” Haggar said from under the hood of her jacket that obscured her face, grabbing a Bludger and twisting it in her hands. Her voice was clearly patronizing as she continued: “Figured we’d come and give all our support to our favorite little Lions. After all, it’d be a shame if we had to cancel our matches this spring, wouldn’t it?”

“But it looks like our schedule is going to be getting a little clearer,” Zarkon said, examining the clipboard. He looked up and gave Shiro a belittling look. “No shame in canceling now, Shirogane. It would be a lot less embarrassing to do it now than when the season has officially begun.”

Shiro scowled and opened his mouth to respond, but cut himself off when he realized he had lost sight of Lotor, and that the blond had stepped closer to Keith, who was desperately trying to keep his eyes on the ground despite Lotor’s attempts to position himself so that Keith would have to look at him.

“Come on, Keithy, it’s never too late to transfer to Galra. I can pull a few strings for you, since the semester’s already begun. Join our team, and you might actually win a Quidditch match, too.” Lotor said.

Keith said nothing, but flinched and tried to pull away when Lotor put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. Shiro felt anger rise in him as Lotor only continued to put his other hand on Keith’s other shoulder.

“Come on, you know your mom would be so proud if you transferred.” Lotor said. “You’ve got Galra in your blood…”

That was when Lotor made a huge mistake, reaching out to cup Keith’s chin to force him to look up.

That was when Shiro snapped, reaching forward to yank Lotor by the hood of his jacket, pulling him back and into Haxus and Haggar.

“Back. Off.” Shiro growled, putting himself between the Galra and Keith, who Allura and Matt had quickly moved towards, Matt carefully extracting the coffee cup that was in Keith’s hands, and shoving it towards Pidge. Already, Shiro was regretting his actions, but it wasn’t because of the angry and indignant noises coming from the Galra team, but from his aching right arm.

The team’s largest member, Sendak, angrily surged forward towards Shiro, but stopped when Zarkon held up his hand.

“Don’t waste my time, Shirogane.” Zarkon said harshly. “Don’t waste any more of yours, either. Cancel your season now. You will never make it to Regionals. You’re short a Chaser, and rumor has it that you have no funding.”

“We have seven able-bodied members of our team, and we are going to play every match of the season.” Shiro said, fists clenching in both anger and pain. “And not only are we going to play every match, we’re going to _win_ every match. And not only are we going to make it to Regionals, we’re going to make sure that we break Galra Tech’s Regionals’ winning streak.”

Zarkon was quiet.

“I almost wish you were an actual challenge.” He said after a moment. Zarkon looked past Shiro at Keith. “You fight like a Galra, Kwan. Not a Lion. Remember that.”

With that, Zarkon gestured for his team to leave.

Shiro didn’t have time to fume. He just turned around and fished Keith’s backpack out from underneath the table. He dug around inside the bag for a moment and pulled out a red tangle toy, putting it in Keith’s hands before gently helping Keith sit down in the snow-covered grass.

“Is he okay?” Pidge asked quietly, coffee cups still in her hands, her eyes wide as Shiro sat beside Keith, who was twisting the toy around in his hands, not looking at anything in particular.

“Keith’s having a shut-down,” Shiro explained in a low voice to Pidge, who nodded in understanding. “He’s usually okay after he stims.”

“Hey, guys!”

Shiro glanced up to see Lance, Hunk and Shay arriving—Hunk carrying Shay princess style on account of all the snow and ice while Lance carried the cardboard box full of wrapped baked goods. All three were grinning, but their smiles quickly disappeared at seeing Keith and Shiro sitting on the grass.

“What happened?” Lance asked, surging forward to set the box down on the table, but hesitated before he got in front of Keith. “Keith, can I sit beside you?”

Keith was quiet for a moment, then nodded and Lance sat down on Keith’s other side.

“What stressed you out, buddy?” Lance asked, looking a little past Keith at Shiro.

“The Galra Quidditch team was kind enough to drop by to show their support.” Allura said, giving glares to people who were passing by and trying to get a look at Keith and what was happening.

“What?” Shay said, eyes going wide.

“Why would they do that?” Hunk asked, frowning as he set Shay down in the folding chair beside the table.

“To harass Shiro and Keith, apparently.” Pidge said.

“They apparently found out about our financial problems.” Shiro said. “Told us to go ahead and cancel the season.”

“What a bunch of quiznakers.” Lance growled.

“Man, though, do I wish you had been here for Shiro’s retort.” Matt said. “That was brilliant, dude.”

“It was stupid.” Shiro responded, the weight of his actions settling on him along with the falling flakes of snow.

“Shiro told them we weren’t going to lose a game this season, and we were going to destroy the Galra’s Regional winning streak.” Matt continued.

“Dude…” Hunk said in a low, reverent voice. “They’ve owned that tournament for the past five years…”

“They’re going to do their best to slaughter us and every other team in the area in order to hold on to their title as Regional Champs.” Lance said, shaking his head some. He turned to look back at Keith. “But they always give us smack talk like that. What happened this time that’s got you in a shut-down, Keith?”

Keith didn’t answer, so this time, Shiro did.

“Lotor.” He said simply.

Lance scowled.

“Should have known,” He said. “Lotor always stresses you out, doesn’t he?”

Keith nodded.

“I hate how he does that…” Keith said at last, voice gravelly and raspy. “Own stupid fault…”

“You dated him in high school, man,” Hunk said sympathetically. “People always make bad decisions in high school.”

“I knew he was a bad decision and I dated him anyway.” Keith said, twisting the tangle toy at a much slower rate.

“You also knew it was a bad decision to mix three cans of Red Bull, six shots of espresso and a two-foot long cherry Pixy Stix into a slurpee cup and drink it, but you did it anyways, dude.” Lance pointed out. “You didn’t sleep for another three days…”

“Oh,” Pidge said, in a tone that was both awe and fear. “So _that’s_ what was in the Slurpee cup I saw you with during finals week… But, like, did it work?”

“Katie, no.” Matt said, apparently seeing where his sister’s train of thought was going.

“Lotor knew all the ways to stress you out—including overstimulating you—and he didn’t care that you would suffer the emotional fall-out. He’s the one who keeps making bad decisions, not you.” Shiro said to Keith. “Can I wrap my arm around your shoulders?”

Keith nodded, and Shiro gently put his arm around Keith, who leaned into him and his warmth, shivering.

“Want to continue this conversation somewhere warm?” Shiro asked, getting a nod in response. “Okay, let’s stand up and we’ll find a place.”

“My dorm’s two buildings away, and there’s a lounge on my floor,” Pidge spoke up. “It should be warm, and hopefully quiet right now. Plus I’ve got a ton of blankets in my dorm. Want to go there?”

“That sounds great, thank you, Pidge,” Shiro said, getting off of the ground before turning and holding his hands out for Keith.

“We’ll clean up here and meet you there,” Matt said.

Shiro nodded and grabbed his backpack and Keith’s, all while keeping an arm around Keith. As Pidge led them towards her dorm, he couldn’t help but think about how much bigger he had just made his already huge mess.

Things had to start looking up from there.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even in a College!AU, the Galra are a bunch of jerks... Lotor especially.


	9. Pidge

Pidge hesitated, stopping close to her half-closed dorm door, pausing her search for blankets.

“Keith, are you sure?”

“Yes, Shiro, I’m okay. I just need to rest for a bit, then I’ll be good to go to class.”

“I can e-mail your professors, you know. You gave them all that letter from the disability services office for a reason… You did give them that letter, right?”

“Yes, Shiro, I did, stop hounding me, okay?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Pidge heard Shiro sigh. “Look, you know how much I care about you. And I get protective of the people I care about. And I feel like I let you down today.”

“You didn’t. Don’t ever think that. The Galra just threw me off balance today. From the sound of it, they threw you off your game, too.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment.

“I’m not losing Quidditch,” He said at last.

“It’s your outlet, I know.” Keith said. “I get it. We’re not going to lose, not to the Galra, not to Iverson. I promise.”

They seemed so cute together. They knew each other so well…

Pidge took a deep breath, grabbed the last blanket and opened the door, coming out with her arms laden with blankets.

“Geez, Pidge, you have a lot of blankets,” Shiro said, getting up from where he sat beside Keith on the couch to help her carry over her load.

“Not a lot of body mass means not a lot of body heat.” Pidge said with a small shrug. “The coffee Allura brought is probably cold by now… Either of you want tea or coffee or something?”

“Tea would be great,” Shiro said as he passed a blanket to Keith.

“I could go for some hot leaf juice,” Keith said with a small smile as he wrapped the blanket around himself.

“Nice _Avatar_ reference,” Pidge said, going over to the kitchenette and filling up the kettle with water and pulling out the boxes of communal tea that lived in the cabinet near the stovetop.

She turned just in time to see Shiro’s left hand briefly go to his right bicep, then quickly drop.

“Um, where’s the bathroom?” Shiro asked.

“Boy’s bathroom is down the hall on the left,” Pidge said, pointing at the direction he needed to go. Shiro nodded and disappeared down the hall, leaving Pidge and Keith alone.

There was a few seconds of quiet, then Pidge said,

“Uh, what kind of tea would you like? There’s green, green with lemon, chai—which is actually the word for tea so we have tea tea—and there’s Earl Grey and this Winter Spice thing and Apple Cinnamon…”

“That Apple Cinnamon sounds good,” Keith said. “Shiro’ll probably want that plain green tea.”

Pidge nodded and pulled out mugs to put the tea bags in.

“Um, if you don’t mind, can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, though.” She said, not turning around yet.

“Autism.” Keith said.

“Huh?” Pidge said, turning around to give him a confused look.

“Autism.” He repeated. “Was diagnosed when I was five. Sometimes sights and smells and sounds overwhelm me, and so sometimes I have a ‘shut-down’. Your question, you were going to ask why I shut-down, right?”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t… No.” Pidge said, shaking her head. “I mean, I was kind of starting to figure that out…” She reached into her sweater and pulled out a green, star-shaped chew necklace, seeing Keith’s face light up. “Asperger’s. So, totally know that shut-down feel. That’s actually kind of why I’ve joined the team? Because I’m usually pretty social, but I didn’t find an outlet last semester and my parents were worried I was depressed and I was told I either choose an activity where I could interact with other humans or my parents would choose for me, but I think they only said that because otherwise I wouldn’t actually look for an activity… But since you’re still a new person to me, I didn’t want to ask just yet because I know sometimes I can ask some really invasive questions and stuff, and that freaks people out, and I really didn’t want to freak you out by doing that. Granted, what I was going to ask you was kind of invasive so maybe I shouldn’t ask, and I’m rambling now, sorry about that.”

“What were you going to ask?” Keith asked when she paused to take a breath.

“Um, it’s just… That guy, Lotor? He said you had Galra in your blood. I just wanted to know what that meant.” Pidge said.

“Oh.” Keith said, looking a bit surprised. Then he shrugged. “My mom went to Galra Tech. For undergrad, for her Masters, for her Ph.D. She’s kind of one of the most famous of their alumni, too, so the Galra recruited me hard to attend there.”

Pidge had a lot more questions after that statement, but instead she decided to say,

“But you wanted to attend Altea?”

Keith shrugged.

“I didn’t want to go to a school where I’d be living in my mom’s shadow. Plus, Galra Tech may also have some geniuses like Altea, but they’re also a pretty big party school and I didn’t want to be in that atmosphere. It’s also a bigger school than Altea, so lot more people. And it’s a pretty popular place for rich parents to send their rich kids to get a degree in just about anything. I’ve heard stories about the parties that those kids throw and I am glad to not be the one getting the bill or cleaning up the mess.”

“Henceforth, advanced basket weaving and mircrobrewing classes…” Pidge said with a nod.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, those are also the classes that the real geniuses take…”

“What? Seriously?” Pidge said, giving him a skeptical look.

“Yeah, the geniuses at Galra typically fall under the ‘mad’ category of geniuses… Well, ‘mad’ and ‘pretentious’.” Keith said. He gave a small sigh. “The only thing that I wanted to go to Galra for is their cryptozoology program.”

“There’s no such thing as a cryptozoology program.” Pidge said, brow furrowing.

“There is at Galra Tech.” Shiro said as he came back in the room. “But it’s highly recommended as a minor, or that you double major. It’s a “don’t quit your day job” kind of deal.”

“Long story short, unless I land a television show deal, there’s not much money to be made off of a cryptozoology degree.” Keith said. “I plan on getting my degree from Altea, work a few years in my field, then going to get the Galra Tech degree just to say that I did.”

“So, are you just into cryptids, or do your horizons expand to aliens?” Pidge asked hesitantly.

“Aliens are obviously real,” Keith said with a nod. 

“Well, duh.” Pidge said, feeling herself grin.

“Thank you!” Keith said, gesturing to Pidge with one hand while giving Shiro a smug look that said ‘See I told you so’.

Pidge turned back to the cups of tea.

“Keith told me to make you some green tea, Shiro.” She said, starting to take out the bags.

“Great, thanks.” Shiro said, taking the mug that Pidge indicated was his. To her surprise, though, he grabbed it using his left hand.

“Bring me mine?” Keith asked. Shiro hesitated, then said,

“I, uh, I need to make two trips…”

“I’ll bring it over,” Pidge said, grabbing Keith’s cup along with her own. But on her way, she noticed something odd about Shiro. Noticeably, that his right hand seemed to suddenly be a bit lower than his left. And part of his upper arm was sticking out in a way that most people would immediately call an ambulance.

Keith noticed this, too, and frowned.

“Did you seriously take it off?” He said, arching an eyebrow at Shiro.

“I was starting to worry about frostbite,” Shiro admitted as he sat on the couch beside Keith. “And it looks weird to be carrying around your own arm. Any word from the others?”

The answer came in the form of the elevator opening and the rest of the snow-covered team made their way inside.

“We took everything to Hunk’s car,” Matt said as he started stripping off his cold weather gear. He shivered and snatched a blanket off the couch. “So, today was a bust.”

“They’re rescheduling the fair, but not for another two weeks,” Shay said as she checked her e-mail on her phone.

“There’s a basketball game on Friday night,” Lance said as he folded himself up into a chair. “We could still try to do a bake sale, if everything we made will last that long.”

“We?” Keith said, arching an eyebrow.

“Okay, everything Hunk made while you, me and Matt served as moral support and kitchen lackeys.” Lance amended.

“It should still be good,” Hunk said. “Would we get in trouble since it’s not for the basketball team, though?”

“I don’t think there’s a rule against it.” Allura said. Her face brightened some. “I do have some good news, though.”

“What’s that?” Shiro asked, sipping his tea cautiously.

“Well, it’s actually good news and bad news,” Allura said. “The good news is that my father agreed to The Castle being a sponsor. The bad news is Iverson is pulling out all the red tape in order to prevent the Café from actually being a sponsor until the fall.”

“Allura, I think the bad news out-weighs the good news…” Matt said.

“No, there’s more good news,” Allura said. She grinned. “Father gave me a considerable advance in my allowance. Which can in turn be donated to the team. And it just so happens to be enough to get new uniforms for the season, and if I get the order in tomorrow, we can have them ready by the first game of the season.”

“Way to go, Allura!” Lance said, leaning over for Allura to high-five him. 

Allura put out her hand to accept the high-five, looking rather pleased.

“We’re not going to let one bad day stop us,” She said.

“Allura’s right,” Shiro said with a nod. “And we’re not going to let the Galra mess with our heads. If we give up now, they’re going to win, and none of us want that. Got to get through the hard days to enjoy the good ones.”

“Look on the positive side of things,” Matt said with a grin. “Like, for example, we met Shiro’s quota of the day regarding finding new players.”

Shiro scowled and narrowed his eyes at Matt.

“You and I both know that the day that Slav voluntarily grabs a broom to play Quidditch is the same day all of his alternate realities are proven to be exist.” Shiro said.

“But did your ‘I wish at least one person would sign up’ quota get filled? In this reality? Yes, yes it did.” Matt said.

Shiro glanced over at Pidge, looking exasperated.

“Your brother,” He said. “Is an impossible nightmare.”

Pidge smirked.

“Welcome to my world.” She responded.

*

That night, Pidge decided to bring up the Galra Tech website, trying hard not to view it as a traitorous act and more a preventive act. She had to know what she’d face on the Quidditch Pitch, right?

Which probably would have helped more if she had gone to the ‘Sports’ page instead of typed ‘Kwan’ into the provided search engine.

Her eyes widened a bit at the number of results.

But, fortunately, there were pictures, and she immediately clicked on the link that featured a picture of a young Asian woman with Keith’s gray-violet eyes.

Dr. Sun-Hi Kwan, affectionately called ‘Sunny’, was shown sitting at a telescope, looking through the lens instead of at the camera.

Then, memories clicked in Pidge’s mind, of afternoons spent watching television and the excitement that was in the classroom when they had substitute science teachers.

VOLTRON was a science show from when she was a little kid, and it quickly became one of the most popular shows on television for appealing to a wide age range. Not only did it teach science concepts, the various scientists gave small news reports on new findings in their fields as well as conducted some small experiments based on questions sent in by viewers. Dr. Kwan had a small segment on the show about astronomy, while also conducting her own research off camera. Further research on Galra Tech’s site confirmed Pidge’s memories of those segments often taking place at Galra with their impressive astronomy program (which was surprisingly on friendly terms with Altea’s astronaut and aeronautics programs despite the schools being rivals when it came to sports). 

She knew the show had been canceled when she was very young, and a Wikipedia search told her why: the death of Dr. Sun-Hi “Sunny” Kwan in a car crash greatly distressed her co-workers on the show as well as the fan-base. As the show hadn’t yet renewed for another season, the producers agreed to end the show.

Pidge then clicked on Dr. Kwan’s blue-lettered name, which took her to the astrophysicist’s Wikipedia page. There was very little about her early life, other than she was born in America, and her parents were South Korean immigrants. There was a lot about her degrees, her work, and her time on VOLTRON, as well as her death. Towards the bottom, under “Personal Life”, Wikipedia stated that Dr. Kwan had one son, named Keith, born just less than two years after earning her Bachelor’s, during her second year of her Master’s program. From Pidge’s calculations, Keith was about six or seven when she died.

Pidge exited out of the browser window, somewhat satisfied in the fact that she had gotten answers without having to actually voice the questions to a fellow human being. Score one for the Pigeon.

She sighed and closed up her laptop, crawling into bed.

Well. Now that she knew more about Keith, she could be even more supportive of his relationship with Shiro, and get over her silly little crush on Shiro.

Right?

*

It wasn’t too hard to sell off their treats at the basketball game. All it took was one guy from the engineering department to come over and see Hunk with baked goods to quickly make a beeline to the table, and then spread the word that there was a limited time offer to buy Hunk’s homemade desserts.

“I’m so glad I made you go to the engineering department potluck back in freshman year,” Lance said as he counted the money in their box.

“I’m glad I decided to make another batch of everything,” Hunk said, arranging the wrapped goods on the folding table. “We’re nearly cleared out, and it’s not even half-time yet.”

“Should we be concerned Allura’s still not here?” Matt asked.

Shiro shook his head.

“She said she’d be a bit late, and that she had an extra surprise to offer.” He said.

“Coffee?” Keith asked. Shiro shrugged.

“Oh, there she is!” Shay said, spotting Allura entering the gym lobby, carrying a box. Behind her was Nyma and Rolo—Nyma’s boyfriend, a tall, black boy who also attended Altea— both also carrying boxes.

“Hi! Sorry I’m a late!” Allura said, setting down her box on an empty chair and taking off the lid. “But look what we’ve got!”

Everyone peeked into the boxes, which revealed popcorn balls wrapped in yellow plastic wrap, with the ends tied to look like Snitch’s wings.

“Nice!” Matt said, picking one up.

“The idea for the popcorn balls was Nyma’s, but it was Rolo’s for the wrapping,” Allura explained.

“Aww, I knew you secretly love being the Snitch, no matter how much you complain,” Lance said teasingly nudging the other boy with his elbow.

“Hey, I’m viewing this as my way of helping get myself a pay raise.” Rolo said, grinning. “Maybe I can get a drink _and_ a cookie this season.”

The extra treats came just in time as the half-time buzzer sounded in the gym, and people filed out to use the bathroom and get more refreshments.

They quickly sold out of Hunk’s remaining treats, and a good chunk of the popcorn balls.

“There’s not really a reason to stick around for much longer now that it’s the second half.” Keith said. “We might as well pack up.”

“How about we try to sell a few more of these popcorn balls in the stands?” Pidge suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Shiro said, grabbing a box lid and turning it into a tray, putting popcorn balls on it. Pidge grabbed another and started to do the same.

“We’ll clean up here,” Matt said. “Meet up in fifteen then go get some dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Shiro said. Pidge nodded in agreement, and the two headed into the gym.

Pidge knew that most universities had arenas and stadiums for their sports. Altea basically had a glorified high school set-up. Still, that meant that she didn’t have to do much climbing on the stairs that separated the rows of bleachers

Many people were happy to purchase the popcorn balls, and that made it worth it to Pidge, who was starting to regret making the suggestion, as it was loud, crowded and smelly inside the gym. There was the usual bunch of people noise, with the added, teeth-gritting noise of basketball shoes squeaking against the floor and the ball pounding on the floor. She could feel herself starting to get a headache within a minute of being inside, but pushed it to the side. She could handle fifteen minutes. She knew she could… She was sure she could…

She was still trying to ignore her burgeoning headache while walking up the steps when suddenly a buzzer sounded and all around her, people were getting to their feet and cheering.

The sudden noises surprised her, making her jump and sending her off-balance. But instead of sending her forward in the direction she was heading, she felt herself falling backwards.

Her eyes widened briefly before squeezing shut to prepare for impact against the hard steps, but it never came. Instead, she felt strong arms wrap around her, quickly scooping her up bridal style.

“Pidge, you alright?”

She opened her eyes and felt her face heat as she looked at Shiro’s worried expression.

“Uh, yeah, but we really have got to stop meeting like this…” She said, knowing full-well that her face was completely red.

Shiro smiled some and carefully walked with her down the steps before setting her on the linoleum floor. She somehow was able to actually stand instead of just melting on the spot. Quiznak, she wished she would instead of standing there with a face like a tomato and stuttering.

“Um, thanks, for catching me, sorry I keep making it a habit.” She said, shaking some with embarrassment. Shiro gave her another smile and said,

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I caught you. You sit for a second, and I’ll go get those box lids.”

Pidge nodded and sat on the closest bleacher, staring blankly as the basketball game continued to play, as if nothing had happened.

She swallowed hard.

She was still crushing on Shiro, maybe even harder now than before.

And he was probably the most unobtainable person in the whole wide world to have a crush on, the least likely person to reciprocate her feelings.

Great. Just… great.


	10. Shiro

Shiro pushed open the door to The Castle, stepping inside to see Shay waving him over. It was early on a Wednesday morning, and Allura called everyone to the shop, promising free hot beverages.

As Keith sluggishly trudged in behind him, Shiro was sure that the promise of a free cup of hot coffee was the only reason he had willingly got out of bed this early after pulling an all-nighter.

“Morning, team,” Shiro said as he approached the table. Keith walked into Shiro’s back when he stopped. Keith then bounced slightly off of Shiro then gave a sleepy grunt—Shiro wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a grunt of greeting or if it was more of a confused, what-did-I-just-walk-into? grunt—and stumbled into a chair, sat down, then immediately put his head on the tabletop. A snore was heard a moment later.

“Keith’s pulled his first all-nighter of the semester, I see,” Matt said.

“I hid his Red Bull. And his Pixy Stix.” Shiro said, slipping into his seat. “We’re just waiting on Lance?”

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “He just texted me, PT’s over and he’s on his way.”

“Wait, Lance does PT?” Pidge said, looking up from her textbook. “As in, physical training?”

“Yeah, he’s in the pre-astronaut program,” Hunk confirmed.

“But don’t they do PT like every morning? For two hours? Before the sun’s even up?” Pidge said. “Seven days a week?”

“Yeah…?” Hunk said, looking a bit confused.

“Okay, and then on Saturdays he goes and practices Quidditch for two hours?” Pidge asked. “Like… How? How is he able to do all that then still run around for two more hours? Does he power nap? Or is there a lot of coffee involved?”

“Lance is a human Energizer Bunny.” Shiro said.

“On steroids.” Shay added.

“And a pot of coffee.” Allura said from behind the counter as she prepared drinks. “He has too much energy for his own good sometimes.”

“As his roommate, I can vouch for that,” Hunk said, arms folded over his chest as he nodded.

The bell jingled as the door was thrown open and Lance entered, grinning, wearing the orange, black and white camouflage uniform of the pre-astronaut program. He was also covered in quite a bit of mud, which made Allura purse her lips as he tracked some in.

“What?” He said, noticing Allura’s expression. “I came straight here!”

“I can tell, taking half the training field with you,” Allura said. She pointed in the direction of the bathroom wordlessly, but Lance moved quickly as if she had barked out an order. However, he stopped and tilted his head, looking at Keith oddly.

“All-nighter?” He asked.

“Yup.” Shiro confirmed.

“Huh. A full week earlier into the semester than usual for him…” Lance said. He stepped a bit closer to Keith and gently started poking Keith’s shoulder, eliciting a sleepy grunt.

“Dude, you should know better and let sleeping Keiths lie.” Hunk said.

“Well, he’s got to wake up somehow.” Lance pointed out, continuing to poke Keith, who now started growling.

“If I were you and wanted to keep that finger, I’d stop now.” Shiro said. He kept his face blank and raised his right hand. “How do you think I lost the arm?”

Lance looked like he momentarily believed it, pausing his poking. Then he grinned and said,

“But then we could be twinsies, Shiro!”

“Lance, clean up, now!” Allura ordered. “Before you get any more mud all over my Café.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” Lance said, giving her a quick, playful salute and rushing to the bathroom.

Allura huffed and went back to preparing drinks, but not before glancing at Pidge and saying,

“Do you see what I mean?”

“Yep, I see.” Pidge said with a nod.

Shiro took that moment to actually take a seat, sliding into the open chair between Pidge and Shay. He glanced over at the table-space in front of Pidge, which was covered with note-cards, highlighters, sheets of marked homework, and sticky notes that were sticking out of her textbook.

He recognized the textbook, because he had the exact same one in his closet.

“Oh, you’re taking Professor Montgomery’s Mathematics for Engineering and Design class,” Shiro observed. Pidge looked up and nodded.

“I took her class last semester,” Shiro said. “Let me guess, first test of the class?”

“Yeah, it’s on Friday. I understand most of it, but I struggled a lot on some of the homework problems,” Pidge said, looking back down at their notes. “And Professor Montgomery implied that those concepts are going to be heavily weighted on the test. I don’t usually have this problem. I like math. I get math. It’s just this one concept I can’t get…”

Shiro thought for a moment, then said,

“If you want, I can help you out. Like I said, I took the class last semester and I’ve got a pretty decent grasp on this concept. You can even look over my old tests, if you want, since I know for a fact she changes them every semester.”

“Really?” Pidge said, looking up again. “That would be great, thank you.”

“I have to work tonight after classes, but I’m free tomorrow night if you want to meet up at the library or somewhere.” Shiro said.

“The library sounds great. My last class is over at four.”

“Meet at the library at five? I’ll book a study room and text you the details.” Shiro said.

“Sounds good.” Pidge said with a nod.

“Then it’s a date.” Shiro said.

He then got distracted by Allura setting his cup of tea in front of him. By the time he got back from pouring some honey in his cup, he noticed that Pidge’s face was a little red. He was about to ask her if she was okay when Allura pulled out a cardboard box from behind the counter, setting it in the middle of the table with a soft thud, making Keith jerk awake, his bangs sticking out weird.

“What…?” Keith said, looking around. He looked confused, as if realizing that this wasn’t his bedroom.

“Drink your coffee, Keith,” Hunk said, gently pushing the cup Allura had prepared for Keith into Keith’s line of sight. He quickly pulled the drink to him, still looking a little dazed.

“Dude, you know you’re going to get sick or something pulling all-nighters like this,” Lance said, sticking a finger into the whipped cream on top of his mocha then licking it off.

“Is Shiro’s fault,” Keith said with a small pout. “He took my Red Bull…”

“And his Pixy Stix.” Shiro added solemnly, quickly taking a tentative sip of his tea so Keith couldn’t see his small smile.

“That’s not Shiro’s fault, that’s Shiro doing you a favor,” Matt pointed out. He stood up and tried to look into the box. “So, what’s in the box, Allura?”

Allura grinned and opened it, pulling out a blue and white t-shirt.

“Ta-da!” She said proudly. “I picked these up last night!”

“Allura, these are brilliant! Thank you!” Shiro said as Allura handed him the shirt that read “SHIROGANE” in light blue across the shoulders on the back, above a number one.

“I got to choose the numbers, so I just used everyone’s from their last jersey,” Allura said. “Well, except Pidge’s, as she was not on the team last season. So, I hope you do not mind that I chose one for you.”

Pidge accepted the folded t-shirt from Allura, then unfolded it to see “HOLT” overtop a number five, showing it to the group.

“These are so awesome! Allura, you’re the best!” Lance said as he ran his thumb over the Altea Quidditch emblem on the chest of his shirt, the number three on the back displayed to the rest of the team, grinning. “We’re going to blow the competition out of the water on Saturday! They’ll be too distracted by our awesome new threads that we’ll snatch a victory right out from under their noses!”

“The Mamora Blades don’t get distracted by anything, Lance,” Matt reminded him.

Shiro couldn’t disagree. Mamora College was a military school with the moto “Live by the Blade”. There was always an “or Die” implied at the end.

“Matt…” Lance groaned, shoving his new shirt in Matt’s face. “Are you not seeing these? These are beautiful! Manna from heaven for our starving team! No one’s going to expect to see us so well dressed if Galra Tech has already figured out we’re on the chopping block! We’re officially a dream team from a feel-good family movie about a ragtag group of misfits winning the big game!”

“Well, you’ve got the ‘group of misfits’ part right,” Shay said with a chuckle. “Now we just need to find a few more.”

“You’d think that’d be easier at a small nerd school.” Shiro said with a shrug. “Well, Lance is right about one thing: we are going to look like rock stars on Saturday.”

Cheers went up from around the table.

Shiro just hoped that Lance was right about them getting ‘dream team miracle’.

*

Shiro met Pidge outside the library, in front of the large winged-lion statue

“Hi!” Pidge said, grinning up at him.

“Hey,” Shiro said, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Any luck?”

“Not really. Professor Montgomery gave us a few exercises to practice with, though.” Pidge said. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“No problem,” Shiro said, pushing open to the door to the library for her.

The moment Shiro entered the library, he wondered if the seasons had also changed. He quickly looked back outside to see the cold winter wind blow, then looked back inside the library full of miserable patrons and staff.

It was _hot_.

Shiro had made sure to wear extra layers in preparation of spending a few hours in the library with a heating unit that never worked in the winter and an AC unit that never worked from spring break through fall break.

But now, he and Pidge were both scrambling to get their extra scarves and hats off, stuffing them into their bags. Shiro then gestured over to the circulation desk, where a particularly irritable Keith stood, the sleeves of his red button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows, as many buttons undone as he dared, and his hair pulled into a ponytail.

“Um, the building’s not actually on fire, is it?” Shiro asked.

“They got the heating to work.” Keith said as he leaned over the counter, his tone of voice as dry as the air.

“So, that means that we’re currently getting the backlog of how many years of freezing our butts off every winter?” Pidge asked, unzipping her jacket.

“Apparently.” Keith said. He turned and grabbed a key off a board, handing it to Shiro. “Room Two is all yours…”

“Thanks,” Shiro said. “Oh, can you feed Purr-Card when you get home?”

Keith nodded.

“Can do,” He said.

“How long have you and Keith been living together?” Pidge asked as Shiro led her towards their booked study room.

“In that apartment?” Shiro said. “About a year now. We’ve known each other pretty much our whole lives, so moving in together was a no-brainer.”

“Huh,” Pidge said. “Didn’t know that.”

Shiro unlocked the study room and pushed the door open for Pidge.

“Am I imagining things, or is it hotter in this room than the rest of the building?” Pidge asked, pulling off her jacket.

“Unfortunately, you’re not imagining it.” Shiro said as he also took off his jacket. “Probably because the door was closed, and we’re away from the entrance. Want to go somewhere else?”

“I can power through if you can.” Pidge said, pulling off her sweatshirt, as she had a t-shirt underneath.

Shiro nodded and sat down.

“And if we sweat enough, that officially counts as a gym day, right?” Shiro asked teasingly.

“Oh, that would be nice,” Pidge said, grinning as she pulled out her folders and pencil pouch. “All the benefit of going to the gym without the soreness later, right?”

“Mmm, maybe not all of the benefit.” Shiro said. He looked at the sheet of practice problems and grinned. “Oh, this is perfect. These are the exact same questions from my test.”

“Really?” Pidge said as she looked over.

“Yeah, so I know the answers already, and have done the work.” Shiro said. “So, we can look at how I solved them and how you solve them and find out where the disconnect is.”

Pidge nodded and started to do the first problem. Shiro watched her work, trying to ignore how uncomfortable he was feeling in the heat. He was wishing he was only in short sleeves like Pidge, but he still had the long-sleeved white top underneath his blue Superman t-shirt. Plus the glove on his right hand, but he couldn’t really feel the heat on that hand so it didn’t really count.

They worked for about an hour or so, Pidge fanning herself with a notebook whenever she could while Shiro kept having to wipe sweat off his brow.

Pidge was figuring out why she was having problems, and her eyes lit up when she got the problem right for the first time, beaming up at Shiro. She did a few more of the problems from the textbook, which Shiro did his own calculations to double-check.

It was so hot, though… He was dying…

 _I’ll just roll up my left sleeve,_ He thought to himself, already doing the action as he watched Pidge finish the problem.

He quickly launched into his own calculations, verbalizing everything he did, hoping that it was extra reinforcement for Pidge’s memory as his fingers tapped at the keys of his calculator and he moved his pencil.

“And… There you are!” He said, circling the answer with a flourish, his matching Pidge’s. “Nice job! You want to do another or want to review something else?”

He turned to Pidge and saw that Pidge’s eyes weren’t on the paper, but on his right arm. He wasn’t sure why until he looked down, his eyes widening as he mentally cursed himself.

When he rolled up his left sleeve, he must have instinctually rolled up the right as well without thinking.

Because, bared to the world, was his black and silver prosthetic arm.

When he looked up at Pidge again, he saw that her eyes had widened, and that her cheeks—already flushed from the heat—were turning an even darker color from being caught.

“Um, yeah, you’ve got this,” Shiro said, quickly reaching up to yank the sleeve down, not able to look at Pidge.

He couldn’t, not even to gauge if the look on her face was pity or disgust.

He couldn’t, he didn’t want to know what she thought about the arm.

“Um, thank you, Shiro.” Pidge said, voice quiet. “For helping me. Thanks.”

Pity? Yep, that was pity. He was sure of it.

“No problem,” Shiro said, packing up his things. “Uh, I’ve got to go, you want me to walk you to your dorm or…?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Pidge said. “It’s still early enough that there’s people going to and leaving the late classes or dinner, so, uh…”

Well, maybe he wasn’t so sure. Disgust then?

 _You can’t tell and you don’t want to be able to tell!_ He chided himself.

“Well, I’ll at least walk you to the library door.” Shiro said, slinging his backpack on, still not looking at her.

Pidge followed him out towards the library entrance, pausing only to return the key. Then, he took a deep breath and looked at her, saying,

“Um, good luck on the test tomorrow. And I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Saturday,” Pidge said, nodding. “Right, Quidditch. See you then. And thank you again.”

Shiro nodded and left the library.

He somehow made it to his car, sitting in the driver’s seat telling himself to take deep breaths and calm down. He couldn’t drive like this, and if he couldn’t drive, he couldn’t get home to his chair and his favorite mug full of tea and his cat. He really wanted his cat…

That thought was probably was what made him pull out his phone and hit Keith’s number.

“Yeah?” Keith responded after a moment.

“Can you put Purr-Card on the phone?” Shiro asked.

Keith was quiet for a moment.

“Shiro, I swear if you ask the cat if I fed him…”

“Just let me talk to my cat, Keith.”

“Okay… You okay?”

“No, now get Captain Purr-Card on the phone.”

He heard Keith sigh then heard his muffled voice say, “Your human is on the phone.”

“Meow?”

“Yeah, I know. Just… I don’t know, talk to him and tell him to come home already. Hunk brought food by and his share is only going to get colder.”

“Meow.”

“I’d rather not talk about my day, Captain. Let’s talk about yours. Did you kill any spiders? Play with your toys? I told Keith to feed you and he usually does and he doesn’t skimp, so don’t try to tell me otherwise…” Shiro said.

“Shiro, are you having an anxiety attack?” Keith asked.

“Shut up, Keith, I’m having a conversation with Captain Purr-Card. Now, you were saying that you and your Mr. Mouse sunbathed for how many hours? Sounds so pleasant… Perfect day for it, too…”

“Shiro, stop talking to the cat, do I need to come get you?” Keith asked, voice serious.

“I… No. No, I’m good. I just need a minute.” Shiro said.

“And to talk to your cat over the phone?”

“…Yes.”

“That’s… Shiro, I don’t think that’s a sign of being ‘good’. Did something happen?”

Shiro sighed.

“Pidge saw my arm.”

“Okay…” Keith said. “Like, the whole thing or did you actually take the glove off for once so she only saw the hand?”

“Mostly just the forearm,” Shiro said. “And it was kind of my fault, I accidentally pushed my sleeve back.”

“Okay.” Keith said. “And what was her reaction? Did she say something?”

“No, she just kind of stared…”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, I only noticed it when I turned to look at her. But she probably thinks it’s weird or something or that I need all sorts of help because I’m an amputee or—”

“Shiro, listen to me, breathe. Come on, one two three in.”

Shiro unconsciously felt himself following Keith’s order, exhaling only once Keith said,

“And one two three out. Feel a little better?”

“Yeah.” Shiro said.

“Look, I know we haven’t known Pidge for a while, but we know Matt, and Matt’s a great person, and so because Pidge is Matt’s sister, by default Pidge is a great person.” Keith said. “She knew the arm exists so it didn’t throw her off-guard. Maybe she zoned out and her eyes just happened to land on your arm. Or maybe she found the arm interesting because she loves tech stuff. I mean, you’re one of the first to use this model and it won’t even be on the market until summer. It is kind of cool for that.”

“Okay, I see your point.” Shiro said. He sighed again. “Look, I think I’m okay to drive, so I’m going to come home to finish this conversation.”

“Sounds good, Lucky and I will be waiting.” Keith said.

“I’ll see you and Captain Purr-Card shortly,” Shiro said, putting emphasis on the cat’s real name.

“Remember to pull over if you need to, and call me.” Keith said.

“Will do.” Shiro said, hanging up. He took another breath—one two three in, one two three out—then started the ignition.

He just hoped this afternoon didn’t change how Pidge thought about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, Hunk's Quidditch shirt has a number 2 on it and Keith's has a number 4.


	11. Pidge

She couldn’t believe what she had seen.

No. It was impossible. Improbable. What were the odds?

_Nope, scratch that, brain, please don’t do those calculations. Save them to give Slav something to do…_

Pidge laid on her dorm room bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind replaying everything from the library that evening.

She just… How?

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and hugging Rover—her childhood stuffed dog—to her chest.

The arm… The prosthetic… She knew it, was very familiar with it, knew everything about it.

There were currently only ten like it in the world.

Nine of those were all prototypes being used in a beta testing process.

One was a piece that was taken to various conferences across the country, and would be going to an overseas conference in August.

It worked by connecting miniature processers to the nerve endings of the residual limb, and the processors would connect with tech in the arm that allowed it to function as easily as a biological arm would.

The patent had been approved.

More would be on the market as of that summer.

The idea, the original design…

That was entirely Pidge’s.

She was the one who had come up with the idea for the arm Shiro wore. She was studying with the intent of creating more prosthetics.

Sure, her name wasn’t on the patent, but she was okay with that. That had been her decision and she didn’t regret it. She only came up with the idea, and helped with some of the research. She wasn’t the one who made her own idea come to life. She would put her name on a patent when it was entirely her own work.

She knew that a lot of the prototype test-users lived in the general area, but she never suspected that—when Matt first told her about Shiro’s prosthetic—that it would be _hers_ that Shiro wore.

But Shiro… He seemed embarrassed that he saw the arm. He tried to get away from her as fast as possible. She had seen that and it had hurt. And, it hurt a little more that he was ashamed of her work, even if he didn’t know it was hers.

She rolled on her side, still hugging Rover, tears leaking out of her eyes.

There was nothing she could do, she knew. Maybe Shiro was still struggling with being an amputee. Yes, that would make sense. Not ashamed of the arm, but the injury…

She closed her eyes, quickly wiping tears away.

She couldn’t think about that. She had to go to sleep and ace her test. Then, on Saturday, she could go play her first Quidditch match…

She shouldn’t have reminded herself about those things, because it only brought Shiro back to the fore-front of her mind.

She sighed and buried her face in Rover’s “fur”.

“I’m probably totally misreading the whole thing, Rover,” She whispered. “And, besides, what does it really matter? He’s taken anyways…”

*

The next morning, Pidge woke up early and went to the gym, hoping to find Shiro there. To her surprise, he wasn’t there despite that she knew for a fact he went every morning. She decided to grab her study cards and review while doing a low-key exercise on an exercise bike, occasionally looking up to see if Shiro had arrived.

He had not.

She gave up, and went back to her dorm to get ready for the day. When Matt sent her a text while she ate her breakfast, saying that the Quidditch team was going out to IHOP for dinner that night, she perked up.

See Shiro again in a group setting and clear the air a bit. Perfect, absolutely perfect.

But then, that night, he didn’t show up, something everyone noticed. But, when they asked Keith what was going on, he simply shrugged and said,

“Shiro had to work. Plus, you know how he gets the night before a game, especially the first of the season.”

Pidge’s heart sank, and buried her feelings in a stack of double-chocolate pancakes.

 _At least,_ she told herself. _She would see Shiro at the Quidditch match._

She definitely did see him there and then quickly decided not to approach.

She didn’t chicken out. Not technically speaking.

But Shiro was more or less pacing the pitch with a fervent look in his eye and mumbling to himself, occasionally pausing to stretch while staring blankly ahead.

“Is he okay?” Pidge asked Matt in a low voice. Matt laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, he just gets nervous before matches.” He said as he pulled a white sweatband onto his head. “It triggers his anxiety to some extent, despite how much he loves the game.”

Pidge was starting to have a bit of anxiety, too, when she saw the Mamora Blades arrive.

“What do they feed them at Mamora?” She whispered with wide eyes as a bunch of buff, tall young adults dressed in black arrived.

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know,” Hunk said as he replaced his usual orange headband with the black band that represented that he was a Beater.

A extremely tall young man with dark skin and contrastingly pale eyes came over to where the Altean Lions were stretching and warming up, wearing a bright white captain’s armband.

“Shirogane,” He said, making Shiro pause in his stretching. Shiro nodded.

“Kolivan,” Shiro said, sticking out his gloved right hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Kolivan said, accepting Shiro’s hand. Pidge saw that when Shiro let his arm fall to his side, his fingers in that hand clenched some. “Rumor has it that you told Zarkon—to his face—that Altea is going to end their regional champion title streak.”

Shiro nodded.

“I did.” He said. Kolivan nodded his head and said,

“Then I wish you luck. Someone needs to end it.” He said.

“If it’s not us, your Blades need to.” Shiro said.

Kolivan grinned, his teeth very white against his dark skin.

“Well. Let’s find out which of us it shall be. Good luck today, Shirogane.”

“You too, Kolivan.” Shiro said as Kolivan walked back to his own team.

“Does that usually happen?” Pidge asked, approaching Shiro cautiously.

“Does what usually happen?” Shiro asked as he went back to stretching out his arms.

“Quidditch teams getting along,” Pidge said.

“Usually.” Shiro said, nodding. “We’re all friends before the beginning whistle and after the final whistle. And Kolivan’s a pretty great guy; we’re friends on Facebook after spending some down-time together between matches at a competition last spring. We’ll still shake hands at the pre-match meeting the refs hold.”

“Does Galra Tech do that? The whole ‘good luck’ thing and greetings before the matches?” Pidge asked. Shiro frowned.

“No. They’re notorious for being distant and unfriendly before, during and after the matches. They don’t really care that Quidditch is supposed to be about friendship and teamwork. They just like to defeat every team they come across.” He paused, looked like he was going to say something to her, then changed his mind, saying instead, “How did your test go?”

“Oh, I think it went well.” Pidge said. “Professor Montgomery posted our grades this morning. I got a ninety-four.”

“Nice.” Shiro said, holding out his hand for a high-five. “I only managed a ninety-two, and you’re the first I’ve heard of to get a higher score.”

Pidge met his hand—a vague part of her brain noticing that it was the left hand he had extended, his right hand still clenching and unclenching—and said,

“I wanted to thank you, again, for helping me out.”

“It’s what teammates are for,” Shiro said, shrugging some. Again, she saw his fingers clench at his side.

“Are you okay?” Pidge blurted out.

Shiro’s brow furrowed in confusion. Feeling stupid, Pidge pointed at his right arm.

“You keep doing that. With your hand. Are you okay?” She asked.

Shiro’s cheeks suddenly looked red and he said,

“I’m great. Just nervous. Come on, let’s get everyone together to go over our strategy.”

Her own cheeks turning red and the distinct feeling that she had quiznaked up, she followed him.

“There’s a couple of texts on your phone.” Keith said to Shiro, not looking up from his own phone.

“How do you know?” Shiro asked, digging through his equipment bag.

“I’m just assuming Mitsy sent texts to the both of us, but is probably more than aware that I’m the one who would get them first.” Keith said. “She sent a selfie, too.”

He turned his phone around to show the team a pretty Japanese teenage girl with her hair in high ponytail and wearing a sports uniform with the name and colors of the local high school, giving the camera a thumbs-up and a grin. Pidge saw that the girl looked a lot like Shiro.

“She says good luck and sorry she’s missing the first match of the season.” Keith said.

“Mitsu has an away game?” Allura asked as she stretched her arms above her head.

“Yeah, it’s her last away game, then two more home games and volleyball’s done for the season.” Shiro said, quickly sending a text of his own.

“Mitsu is Shiro’s little sister,” Matt supplied to Pidge. “She’s usually at our home matches, cringing at the abuse we deal to the poor Quaffle, which is officially marketed to the Muggle world as a volleyball.”

“It makes our breaks fun, though, having two different sports that use the same type of ball.” Shiro said, putting away his phone and digging around in his bag for something else. “She practices her serves and I practice catching them.” He pulled out a clipboard. “Alright, let’s go over our strategy…”

The team was huddled around Shiro’s clipboard and his diagrams when Shay looked up and inhaled sharply.

“Shiro,” She said, voice shaking some. “Look up.”

Shiro did so and his jaw clenched, lips pressed into a scowl.

“I don’t believe it,” Lance said, also scowling.

“What are they doing here?” Keith said irritably, arms folding over his chest.

“Shiro… What are we going to do?” Allura whispered.

Pidge stood on her toes and peered past Hunk to see the Galra Tech Quidditch team making themselves comfortable in the stands.

“We’re just going to play our hardest, and do our best.” Shiro said, voice tight. “We can’t tell them to leave, we did make the event open to the public.”

A move that seemed to have brought profit. Nyma was helping Lance’s four younger siblings at a small concessions table that was quickly emptying, and there were a lot of parents with kids of all ages there. Some middle and high schoolers seemed to have come on their own, all sporting _Harry Potter_ gear.

“They want to see what we’ve got, then let’s show them.” Shiro continued. “Allura, you’re up for tip-off.”

Allura nodded and tightened her ponytail before grabbing her broom.

“Pidge, do you need to go over any of the rules before the game starts?” Shiro asked. Pidge shook her head.

“I think I’m good,” She said. Shiro nodded.

“Alright, team, let’s do this!” He said.

Under the referee’s watchful eye, Shiro and Kolivan again shook hands before each retreated to their team’s line, leaving Allura and a Mamora player named Antok in the center, both waiting for the Quaffle to be thrown into the air.

The whistle blew, the Quaffle was in the air and the game was on.

Allura just barely missed the Quaffle, which Antok tossed back to a Mamora player. Said Mamora player quickly got hit with a Bludger, courtesy of Hunk. The player frowned, dropped the Quaffle and ran back to his end zone while Matt and another Mamora Chaser ran to pick up the dropped Quaffle.

“Katie!” Matt yelled as he ran towards the goals, Quaffle under his arm. Pidge ran faster than Matt did, and he threw the Quaffle at her. Catching it was awkward, but she quickly adjusted, rushing toward the goal, hefting it and tossing it towards the hoops.

The Mamora Keeper caught it, which made the Altean fans groan.

“Nice shot, Pidge!” Shiro called from his zone at the other end of the field.

Play resumed, and Pidge found herself greatly enjoying the game, feeling elated when Allura got a goal off of one of Pidge’s passes.

Everything was going pretty great for the Lions, they were all just waiting until the Snitch—and, by proxy, Lance—got released onto the field. Shortly after that happened, Pidge had just dodged a Bludger and tried to avoid crashing into Rolo-the-Snitch, so she wasn’t really paying attention to what else was going on when she heard Shiro yell:

“SLAV! GET OFF THE FIELD!”

The whistle blew, pausing play, and Pidge turned to see Slav beside a very confused Mamora Beater.

“But, Shiro, Mamora’s probability of winning will go up if this nice young lady here just threw the ball at a thirty-five degree angle instead of a forty degree angle!” Slave shouted back.

“SLAV, YOU ATTEND ALTEA! YOU SHOULD BE TRYING TO INCREASE OUR CHANCES OF WINNING, NOT MAMORA’S!” Shiro yelled as he left the Keeper area to go to where Slav stood.

“Shirogane,” The ref said, face serious as he approached. “You know no more than seven players on the field at a time.”

“Slav’s not a player.” Shiro said.

“That is not entirely true, I did sign—” Slav started to say, but was cut off when Shiro threw an arm around Slav and put his hand over the shorter man’s mouth, sending Slav’s glasses askew, a tight smile on his face as he looked at the unimpressed referee.

“Sorry, English isn’t his first language, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Shiro said quickly.

“But, Shiro, English isn’t your first language either.” Slav said, having somehow slithered out of Shiro’s grasp.

“Are you two friends?” The referee asked.

“Yes,” Slav said at the same time Shiro said, “I’m not sure so sure in this reality...”

“Oh, this is not good…” Hunk groaned from beside Pidge, broom in both hands. “We’re in a lot of trouble if Shiro gets carded for this…”

“Galra Tech is eating this up,” Keith said with a scowl. Sure enough, while the rest of the fans looked confused, the Galra Tech team was laughing hysterically in the stands. Well, all except for Zarkon, who had his elbows on his knees and most of the lower half of his face obscured by his laced fingers.

And, to make matters completely worse, Dean Iverson stood at the back of the spectator area in his perfectly tailored suit and looking irritable.

Fortunately, by that point Coran and Professor Arus had both left the bleachers to come over. While Professor Arus suggested that Slav watch the rest of the match with him and Coran, the red-headed athletic director attempted to help Shiro smooth the incident over with referee, predominately to avoid cards from coming out. Kolivan also joined the discussion.

“There was no harm done, really.” Kolivan said. “He didn’t interfere with a play, and obviously Shirogane did not ask him to come on to the field. Altea shouldn’t suffer from a spectator’s actions.”

The referee agreed, issued a warning to both teams and the spectators, and conducted a tip-off to restart the play.

Play went back and forth. Mamora would score, then Altea would, then Mamora would score again, then Altea would. Until, once again, they were tied, and then…

“GO PIDGE GO!” Shay cheered from the side as Pidge got closer to the Mamora hoops. The Keeper was huge but she shifted the Quaffle in her hand and lobbed it and—

The whistle blew as the ball soared through the hoop, and she turned to see if the referee declared it a legal goal, the crowd cheering.

She punched the air with glee as the goal was declared official. She had scored her first goal, and she had gotten her team ahead!

The Mamora Keeper restarted play, but the Quaffle hadn’t been in play for too long when the referee blew the whistle again.

Everything stopped and the players looked around until their eyes landed on a three-person pile-up on the side of the field. Rolo laid on the ground, looking a bit dazed as he sat up. The Mamora Seeker was sprawled on top of Lance, who—despite the near two-hundred pounds of pure muscle on top of him—was grinning widely. He threw his arm into the air to show everyone that he held the yellow sock with a ball inside that served as the official Snitch.

The assistant referee made a signal that indicated that the catch was good.

The game was officially over.

And Altea had won!

The cheers were deafeningly loud to Pidge’s ears, but most of that noise was coming from her own mouth as she and her team celebrated.

The Mamora Seeker got off Lance and helped him to his feet, the two boys shaking hands, before each went to join their teams, Lance running over with both broom and Snitch high in the air.

“We won!” Lance yelled, as if his teammates hadn’t figured it out. To Pidge’s amusement and Keith’s irritation, Lance ended up immediately colliding with Keith for a hug. The black-haired boy rolled his eyes and looked grumpy, but returned the hug, only for the both of them to be grabbed into a hug by Hunk.

“Lance, that was a brilliant catch!” Shay said as she hobbled over on her crutches.

“And, Pidge, congrats on your first goal!” Shiro said, gently patting Pidge on the shoulder, which made her feel happy, because he had touched her with his right hand, and hoped that that meant that whatever was wrong with his hand was better and the tension between the two was gone.

“Yeah, Katie, that was great!” Matt said, gently tugging on his sister’s ponytail, making her squawk.

“If we can beat Mamora, we can definitely defeat the Galra!” Allura said, grinning widely.

And speak of the devils…

As the team prepared to head over to shake hands with the Mamora team, they saw the Galra Tech team irritably leaving the bleachers, whispering to themselves. Except for Lotor, who was sauntering his way forward, looking smug for a reason that they all knew only meant trouble.

Pidge glanced behind her to see what Shiro would say or do, but got stopped when she saw Lance’s smile turn into a small frown, one arm still wrapped around Keith’s shoulders. Then, suddenly, a small smirk played at his lips.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance said.

“Yeah?” Keith said, turning to look at Lance. 

“You played an awesome match.”

“Thanks.”

“And so did I.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“So I think that calls for a celebration.”

“Such as?”

Lance’s answer was his smirk growing.

Pidge felt her eyes widen as Lance pressed his lips to Keith. Though Keith looked initially surprised, that surprise only lasted for a second, and his eyes closed, returning the kiss.

Pidge felt very confused.

_Isn’t… Keith dating Shiro?_

“Okay, you two, get a room or something.” Matt said after a moment.

“Or just go back to kissing after we’ve shook hands, okay?” Shiro said.

_Why the quiznak was he being perfectly calm about this?!?!?!_

“Definitely can do that.” Lance said, lacing his fingers with Keith’s. Keith turned red and gently bumped his hip against Lance’s.

“Maybe,” He said. “After a shower. And some food…”

Pidge felt very, very confused.

_Error 404, Katie’s brain cannot be found._

She turned away, still bewildered and trying to figure out what was going on. Lotor caught her eye, his hands curled into fists and a small snarl on his face as he stood there. Then, he turned and stomped away.

She jumped at feeling a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Matt looking down at her, face concerned.

“You okay? You shutting-down?” He asked. “I know it’s been really loud and stuff and—”

“Matt,” She whispered. “I’m confused…”

“About?” Matt prompted, also lowering his voice.

“Why did Lance kiss Keith if Keith’s dating Shiro?” Pidge asked.

Matt looked just as confused as she felt.

“Because… Keith’s not dating Shiro? Because Keith’s dating Lance?”

She blinked.

“What?” She said, voice squeaking some.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I thought you knew that… Uh, Hunk and Shay are together, too…” Matt said, reaching behind him to scratch the back of his head.

“I knew about Hunk and Shay because Hunk is an adorable sap of a project partner who loves to talk about his cute geologist girlfriend, but, yeah, I thought Shiro and Keith were dating.” Pidge said. “I mean, they not only share an apartment, they share a room at the apartment and a whole bunch of other stuff…”

“No, they’re just roommates, and have been friends practically their whole lives.” Matt said. He studied Pidge. “Uh, you okay now? You want to go shake hands then get cleaned up and get some food?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” Pidge said as Matt led her over to join the rest of the team.

As she walked, she felt her steps become lighter.

Shiro wasn’t dating Keith.

Maybe, just maybe, she still had a chance…


	12. Shiro

Kolivan shook Shiro’s hand.

“Good game,” He said. “I wish you and your Lions luck this season. You are going to need it to defeat the Galra.”

Shiro watched as Kolivan’s pale brown eyes looked past him at the Holts, who were still shaking hands with the other members of the Mamora Blades.

“Your new Chaser has a lot of potential,” Kolivan said. “I think she is a good addition.”

“Shay trained her really well.” Shiro explained. “It’s Pidge’s first match.”

“First match ever?” Kolivan said, arching an eyebrow. “Impressive. She completely blindsided Thace with her shot. Still, I and the rest of the team continue to send well-wishes for Shay. Pity her talent is currently wasted on the bench.”

“I wouldn’t say wasted. More like being stored.” Shiro said. “But, thank you.”

Kolivan nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything this season; I got certified as a ref over winter break, Antok’s in the process of doing the same, and Thace is a certified Snitch.” He said.

“Thanks,” Shiro said. “Hope you all have a safe drive back to Mamora.”

Kolivan gave Shiro a small nod then went to join his teammates.

Shiro was about to do the same, join his teammates on the sidelines, where Lance was buried under his younger siblings to their parents’ and the others’ amusement while Allura was hugging her father and Coran.

“Shirogane.”

Shiro turned to see Dean Iverson standing about three feet away. Shiro swallowed and approached.

“Good morning, Dean Iverson.” Shiro said. “Did you enjoy the match?”

“I must say that I am impressed at the turnout, as well as the result of this little game.” He said, not answering Shiro’s question directly. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your fundraising techniques. Very business smart move.”

“Thank you, sir.” Shiro said, feeling a little relieved.

“However,” Iverson said. “Don’t think this means that your little team is off the chopping block. This is one day, one game. You’ve had a lucky streak. But it can’t last forever.”

“I don’t think it’s been luck, sir.” Shiro said, voice tight. “We’ve all been working very hard these last few weeks…”

“So it seems.” Iverson said. “But Quidditch is not your priority. Representing the school is your priority. Representing your highly competitive programs is your priority. Something Mr. McClain-Sanchez and Mr. Kwan have seemed to have forgotten today…”

Shiro tried to control the feelings of anger he felt bubbling low in his belly.

So that was what this was about…

“Lance and Keith are both active members of the campus LGBT community as well as dedicated students and athletes. Both have worked extremely hard to get into their programs.” Shiro said. “They take representing the school very seriously.”

“Nevertheless, please request that they keep their public displays of affection to a minimum when they are wearing Altea’s colors and name on their shirts.” Iverson said. His eyes went back to looking behind Shiro and his good eye narrowed some. “And, Shirogane? Were you aware that Miss Holt was asked—begged even—to attend some of the best schools in the country? In the world? Harvard, Yale, Oxford. And yet she chose Altea. She is a legacy, as I am sure you are aware.”

“Yes, sir, I am aware.” Shiro said. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with Quidditch.”

“Very well, if you wish to discuss sports, then I will put this in a sports analogy.” Iverson said, and Shiro tried hard not to scowl at the implication that he was just some meathead jock. “You are aware of draft pickings for the National Football League and Major League Baseball?”

“Yes, sir.” Shiro said.

“Well, Miss Holt was a top pick for an unofficial intellectual draft picking.” Iverson said. “Her intelligence quota is incredibly high, as are her SAT and ACT scores. She has been sought after since she was in middle school. That she made the decision to attend Altea is not only a high honor, but it comes with many eyes on her. The entire academic world is watching her in general, but she is being even more closely watched by the community of professionals that make up her area of study, which is a very niche community in and of itself. Her name is going to be known all around the world, followed by the words ‘graduate of Altea University’.”

Iverson gave Shiro a very serious look.

“You are doing well right now, Shirogane. But the moment Miss Holt’s grades begin to slip is the final nail in the coffin for your little club. Believe me, I will find any little loophole I can to make sure it happens. See to it that this silly game does not take over her life as it has yours.”

With that, Iverson nodded his head and walked away, leaving Shiro fuming, broomstick clutched tightly in his hand.

“Shiro?”

Shiro snapped out of his reverie to turn to Keith.

“You okay?” Keith asked, tilting his head some, brow furrowing.

“Yeah.” Shiro said, forcing himself to lessen his grip. “You ready to go get some food?”

“What did Dean Iverson want?” Keith asked, ignoring Shiro’s question.

“To remind me that we still have a long way to go to save the team,” Shiro said, which was half-true.

Keith frowned.

“Well that puts a damper on the celebration.” He said.

“Yeah, well, let’s go get burgers and milkshakes and take care of that.” Shiro said.

“Not the celebration I was talking about,” Keith said. “Lance is trying to throw together a party tonight. Well, apparently, all the guys on his and Hunk’s floor have been talking about having a party tonight and Lance says that now there’s a good reason to party.”

Shiro frowned.

“You know how I feel about wild dorm parties…” He said.

Especially with Iverson’s warnings about ‘Representing the school’ ringing in his ears.

“It’s not going to be a wild dorm party, Shiro,” Lance said, suddenly appearing beside Keith. “Just a random dance party, in the first floor rec room. Glow-sticks and canned sodas and Beyoncé and all that.”

“Someone always tries to sneak in the alcohol.” Shiro said with a frown. “Or pre-game.”

“I’ve already talked with Lauren, our RA, about that, and she and the other RAs not only approve of the party planning, but say that they’ll keep an eye out for anyone who tries to party to hard.” Lance said. “Come on, Shiro, have a little fun, will ya?”

“Shiro doesn’t know how to have fun,” Keith said, smirking some as Shiro looked both utterly betrayed and offended.

“I do too know how to have fun…” He said.

Keith and Lance looked at each other, each with growing smirks.

“Prove it.” They said together.

Shiro scowled.

He kind of walked into this one…

“Alright, alright… As long as your RA is cool with it.” He said.

Lance held out his fist for Keith to bump. Shiro rolled his eyes and walked over to the rest of the team.

“Party!” Lance cheered from behind Shiro.

“Lunch, first, though.” Shiro said.

“Oh, about time, I’m starving.” Matt said.

“But first,” Nyma said, her arms folded over her chest. “Slav, do you have something to say to Shiro?”

Slav frowned and looked at the ground.

“Nyma says I have to apologize and promise to never enter the Quidditch field during a game again unless you say I may, Shiro.” Slav said.

Shiro took a deep breath. His earlier anger with Slav was pretty much gone, eased by the win and replaced with the anger he felt towards the Dean.

“The apology is accepted,” Shiro said. “And if you see ways to increase the probability of _Altea_ ’s wins, please tell me or Shay. Preferably Shay if I’m on the field during a game.”

Slav nodded, looking a bit relieved to see that he was forgiven.

“So we are still friends in this reality?” He asked.

Shiro nodded.

“Yes, we are still friends.” He assured Slav.

Which he somewhat regretted as he suddenly had Slav’s arms thrown around his middle, pinning his own arms in a hug, feeling his cheeks heat as Shay, Allura, Lance, Nyma and Hunk all said “Awww…”.

“As much as I’m a fan of the ‘hug-it-out’ method, I am seriously about to eat my broomstick.” Matt said. “I’m about ready to skip a burger entirely and go find a cow to eat.”

“Gross, Matt.” Pidge said, poking her brother in the side with her broom as they all started to walk towards the McDonalds just outside of campus.

“You stay away from Kaltenecker, Holt.” Lance said, eyes narrowing, suddenly very protective of the pet cow on his parents’ farm.

“I might just have to in order to put her out of her misery of being named ‘Kaltenecker’.” Matt said. “Seriously, how the heck did you look at a cow and decide to name it ‘Kaltenecker’?”

“You named your dog Gunther!” Lance protested. “You want to talk about dumb names for pets, Matt?”

“Excuse you, Gunther is named in honor of computer information systems researcher Neil James Gunther.” Matt said. “It’s classy and nerdy without having to bring in puns. Perfect name for a loyal animal companion.”

“Wow, Shiro, did you get the number of that bus that just ran you over?” Rolo said with a laugh.

“Do we have to take them with us?” Allura asked, hooking a thumb towards Matt and Lance.

“We can try, but I think they’ll stop us at the door.” Pidge said, smirking. “Animals usually aren’t allowed in restaurants.”

“Nice one, Pidge!” Hunk said, chuckling, holding out his hand for Pidge to high-five.

“She’s got you there.” Shiro said with a laugh as both Matt and Lance looked so offended.

“Burned by my own baby sister… Well, I never…” Matt said, shaking his head.

“I thought you’d be used to it by now.” Pidge said, pushing open the door .

As the banter continued over French fries, burgers and milkshakes, Shiro started to feel a lot more relaxed than he had before the game had started.

He only wished that it would last.

*

Shiro shifted awkwardly under Lance’s narrowed-eyed gaze and pursed lips.

“Seriously, Shiro?” Was all the Latino boy said with a sigh.

“I thought it was appropriate…” Shiro said, tugging on the hem of his red t-shirt that read _I like to party, and by party I mean read books_.

“I told him not to, but the only alternative he was even vaguely interested in was his _Dungeons and Dragons_ shirt. The one with the twenty-sided die that says _That’s how I roll_.” Keith said as he dug through the bowl of disposable earplugs near the door, looking a bit victorious when he pulled out a red pair to match the red glow jewelry that was around his wrists and neck.

“I’ve got the designated quiet room set up where it always is, study room three down the hall past the pool table.” Lance informed Keith, who nodded as he brushed back his hair to fit the earplugs in. Once Keith had his earplugs in, Lance held out his hand—a blue glow bracelet around his wrist—for Keith and said,

“Come dance with me?”

Keith nodded and took Lance’s hand, allowing himself to be led onto the dance-floor.

Shiro went and found himself a spot inside the dimly lit room, leaning against the wall near the table full of canned sodas and just watched for a while. He smiled as he watched Keith and Lance together, both of them grinning, Lance saying something to Keith that made him laugh.

He was happy that Keith was happy. He was happy that they were both happy, actually.

Perhaps that was why he was so angry that someone disapproved of their happiness.

“Hey, Shiro!”

Shiro smiled at seeing Shay, Hunk, Matt and Pidge approach, the Holts decked out in green glow jewelry while Shay and Hunk wore matching yellow. His smile grew into a grin at seeing Pidge’s shirt, a gray tee with black, all-capital letters that read _I have no feelings or emotions just sarcasm_.

“Nice shirt, Pidge.” He said. She frowned, then gestured to her ears, where neon green earplugs were. He repeated himself a little loud and she grinned.

“Thanks!” She said, raising her voice to accommodate the music and the music-dampeners she had inserted. She looked like she was about to say something else, but then Matt cut her off by saying,

“So, Shay, how are you going to make the ‘dance’ part of ‘dance party’ work tonight?”

Shay smiled and leaned against Hunk.

“Well, fortunately Hunk’s never minded too much if I step on his toes when we dance.” She said. “So I’m just going to stand on his feet.”

“We’ll dance together the whole night, literally and figuratively.” Hunk said, gently pressing a kiss to Shay’s cheek.

“Oh quiznak that is so sappy and adorable I think I’m going to puke rainbows.” Matt said dryly.

“Right, so, tell me, Matt, who has already asked you to dance with them?” Shiro asked teasingly. Matt frowned.

“Lot of talk coming from the guy who is keeping this wall standing.” Matt said, putting his hand on the wall for emphasis.

“It’s a hard job, but someone’s got to to it.” Shiro said with a shrug.

“And you’re doing a great job of it!” Pidge said quickly, which made Shiro laugh.

“Thanks,” He said. Then his eyes playfully narrowed, eyeing her shirt again. “Or is that sarcasm?”

Pidge was about to respond, her mouth open, when suddenly Allura came up, face grim in contrast to the cheery pink glow that surrounded her wrists and neck.

“Shiro, we’ve got a problem.” She said.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked, immediately straightening up.

“Galra.” Allura said.

“What?” Shiro, Matt, Pidge, Shay and Hunk exclaimed at the same time. Shiro only briefly wondered if Pidge heard what Allura said in the first place, but started following Allura towards the lobby of the dorm building.

He scowled at seeing the Galra Tech Quidditch Team make their way inside the designated party area.

“Wasn’t it bad enough they showed up to the match?” Matt said. “Now they’ve got to crash our party, too.”

“Are they going to cause trouble?” Pidge asked hesitantly.

“Let’s find out.” Shiro said, taking a step forward. “Zarkon.”

“Shirogane.” The other captain returned. He glanced around the room. “Your party is… quaint.”

“It’s primitive at best,” Haxus commented, nose wrinkling as he scanned the room. “Root Beer and diet soda? Is that really the best Altea can do? Can’t even spring for a few cheap cans of beer?”

“Maybe you should throw your own party if you don’t like ours. On Galra Tech’s campus.” Allura commented sharply.

“But Altea’s doors are wide open.” Sendak said. “Haggar, you bring your special brew?”

The girl smiled eerily and reached into her purse, pulling out a bottle full of a strange purple liquid. Shiro wasn’t quite sure what she had in there to make it glow and he didn’t want to know.

“If you want to stay, the alcohol needs to leave.” Shiro said.

Just then, three of the RAs—Lauren, Tim and Mitch—approached, all frowning at Haggar’s bottle.

“Is there a problem here?” Mitch asked.

“We just thought it’d be nice to bring a gift,” Haggar said. “But evidentially these lion cubs are still only drinking milk. Not ready to sink their teeth into some meat.”

“Alcohol-free party.” Tim said. “It’s got to go.”

Haggar huffed, lowering the bottle back into her purse.

“Ungrateful cretins.” She grumbled. She turned to Zarkon. “Speaking of, where did Lotor run off to?”

Shiro stiffened, then—deciding that leaving the Galra Quidditch team to the RAs was the best option—went back to the dance area. He easily spotted Lotor, but neither of them had found Keith yet.

“I got you covered, dude.” Hunk said, making Shiro jump slightly as the other young man appeared behind him, placing a large hand on Shiro’s shoulder. Hunk held up his phone. “I texted Lance when you guys ran off. They’re in the quiet room.”

Shiro breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m going to go check on—” He started to say, but got cut off when he felt a hand wrap around his right wrist, which he instinctively and sharply pulled away. 

“What?” He growled.

Then he turned to see Pidge standing there, eyes wide and a little hurt, and he regretted the knee-jerk reaction.

“Um, if Lotor sees you, and decides to follow you, then he’ll know where Keith is, right? Ambush and stuff.” Pidge said. “So, how about I go check on Keith for you? Since Lotor has no reason to follow me.”

Shiro was especially starting to feel guilty now.

“Um, thank you. That would be great.” He said, mentally kicking himself.

Quiznak he hated himself somedays. A lot of days. Here Pidge was just trying to be nice and the first thing he did was snap at her.

Man, he was a jerk.

Pidge nodded, then dashed away in the direction of the quiet room.

Hunk clapped Shiro on the shoulder, then went back to Shay, who was leaning against the wall without her crutches.

Shiro sighed and ran his fingers through his white bangs.

“Hey,” Allura said, coming up beside him. “You okay?”

“No, not really.” Shiro admitted. Allura frowned, then led him over to a relatively quiet corner. Or, at least, a corner that didn’t have a couple making-out in it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

Shiro sighed again. He might as well. He couldn’t tell Keith this, but Allura… Allura was different.

“Dean Iverson spoke to me after the Quidditch match today.” He said.

“Right.” Allura said, nodding.

“And… He spoke a lot about representing the school… And how Keith and Lance did not do that today.” He explained.

“Both played spectacularly, with good sportsmanship.” Allura said, frowning. “How on earth could they have—Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. His words exactly were to have them ‘keep their public displays of affection to a minimum’.”

Allura sighed and reached up to push a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know why I am so surprised.” She said. “Father has told me several times that Dean Iverson has implied that he does not approve of Father’s relationship with Coran.”

“I just… I can’t understand why some people can’t leave happy people alone, especially if they are happy and not doing any harm.” Shiro said. “That’s not fair for anyone.”

“I understand, believe me.” Allura said with a nod. Suddenly, she smiled. “You know what we should do, Shiro? We should spite all the haters with how happy we are.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Shiro asked, giving her a small half-smile. Her smile grew.

“Well, it appears we have a fantastic dance party happening around us. Let’s start with that.” Allura said.

Shiro’s small smile turned into a grin.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s hit the dancefloor.”


	13. Pidge

Pidge could feel her cheeks burning as she walked down the hall towards the quiet room.

She still didn’t know what she did wrong to ‘break’ her burgeoning friendship with Shiro, but she thought she had fixed it.

Apparently, she was wrong.

Of course, it was her own fault. She grabbed his right wrist. It was closer, though…

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’s really going to only see you as an obnoxious underclassman now, not an actually dateable person._

Well. Thank goodness for the quiet room.

She quickly pulled her earplugs out then put them back in the wrapper in her pocket before opening the door, that had a sign on it that read, in blue marker:

**QUIET ROOM; IF YOU COME IN HERE TO MAKE OUT, HUNK WILL GIVE YOU HIS “I’M NOT MAD, JUST DISAPPOINTED” LOOK AND YOU WILL CRY.**

Pidge pushed the door open slowly, seeing Lance and Keith sitting at the table, a fidget toy in Keith’s hands that he was playing with almost unconsciously while talking with Lance. They both stopped and turned to the door when they heard it open, both bracing then relaxing at seeing Pidge.

“Hey,” She said, closing the door behind her, taking a seat across from them. “I told Shiro I’d come check on you, Keith.”

“Thanks,” Keith said, his fingers moving a bit faster.

“I still say that we should either go up to my room or to your place,” Lance said to Keith.

“Lance, you helped organize this.” Keith said. “You shouldn’t leave.”

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t feel like you have to either.” Lance said. “This is your school. They’re the gatecrashers, not you.”

“You’re leaving the party?” Pidge asked.

“I’m debating.” Keith said. “I usually leave early. Even the earplugs and quiet room can only help for so long. But I can stay for another hour.”

“Even with Lotor out there?” Pidge asked, arching an eyebrow.

Keith took a deep breath then said,

“Yeah. Lance, you’re right, but not about the leaving part. This is my turf. Well, not really, this is a dorm building and I don’t live in a dorm. I live in an apartment. This is Lance and Hunk’s turf. Point is, if I let him intimidate me here, he’s going to think he can do it on the Quidditch Pitch. I let him do that back at the club fair, and I can’t do that again.”

“You weren’t intimidated, you had a shut-down, there’s a difference.” Pidge said.

“Thank you!” Lance said, gesturing to Pidge while giving Keith an ‘I told you so’ look.

Keith shook his head.

“I’m not going to spend the rest of my life hiding whenever he shows his stupid face.” Keith said. Just like that, both knew he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Keith?” Pidge said softly. “Um, when you dated him, did Lotor… did he hit you or…?”

To her surprise, Keith and Lance both laughed some at that.

“Trust me, Lotor would not be alive if he hit Keith, the only question about it would it have been Keith or Shiro who finished him off.” Lance said.

Lance saying that sobered Keith up quickly and his eyes went to his toy.

“Yeah, well. I kind of only dated Lotor because I wanted Shiro to make me end it with him.” Keith said.

“What do you mean?” Pidge asked.

Keith was quiet for a moment, then said, 

“Shiro, Lotor and I all attended the same high school, and Shiro was a grade above me and Lotor. Lotor was pretty much the king of the school, and a self-proclaimed lover of pretty things, and quite openly bi. But I was one of the few guys who was openly gay. Lotor made it clear he wanted to date me. I always turned him down, even when he trying to coerce me into it. He’d sometimes harass me out of spite, but it wasn’t too bad. I didn’t care, and it helped having Shiro there.

“But after Shiro graduated, he… left. And I was bitter. And mean. And stupid. And a little selfish. I just wanted Shiro to come back. We got into this really stupid fight over it. And this dumb idea came into my head, that, maybe, if I dated Lotor, Shiro would come back. Yell at me and call me an idiot and made sure I broke up with Lotor and give me this disappointed look, but he’d be back. The whole three months I dated Lotor were completely out of spite towards Shiro, which I realized wasn’t fair to him, or me, or even Lotor. So, it wasn’t a healthy relationship at all, and I contributed to the toxicity.”

“It was a mistake,” Lance said, gently putting his hand on Keith’s. “And mistakes can be good things. Things you learn from.”

“Yeah, well, I definitely learned more from that experience than I did in all of Professor Hendrick’s class last semester.” Keith said.

“And did Shiro come back?” Pidge asked. Well, obviously, he did, after all, they all attended the same university.

Keith frowned.

“In a way.” He said. “So I broke it off with Lotor, though he got really mad about it. Let’s just say the last few months of my senior year of high school were rather rough.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Pidge said, feeling very sympathetic. She’d hit a few rough patches in her school life too. She tried to block all memories of middle school out for that reason. “So, you and Shiro have always been close?”

“Yeah. We’ve been best friends since we were kids.” Keith said. “He’s the greatest. His whole family is amazing. And I should know, since they did the most of the whole ‘raising me’ thing after my mom died.”

There were a lot of things about Shiro and Keith that Pidge was learning today…

“Um,” Pidge said. “Do you mind me asking why you two share a one-bedroom apartment? Because I kind of thought that you and Shiro were dating because of it…”

Lance laughed at that and Pidge frowned, but then Lance waved his hand and said,

“I’m laughing because I thought the same thing when I met them, that they were dating. Thought Shiro was the big-scary-boyfriend-who-shall-not-be-crossed…”

“To be fair, you were annoying me.” Keith said, elbowing Lance in the ribs gently before turning back to Pidge. “He tried some stupid pick-up line on me—which I did not get—and then after he thought Shiro was my boyfriend he just went into this aggressively pining mode that involved declaring us rivals.”

“It wasn’t aggressively pining,” Lance protested. “But the rivals thing, nope, won’t deny. We still are. Because you know you love it…” He reached out and gently poked Keith in the ribs.

“Because we’re both competitive little quiznakers who may or may not be ten year old boys in the shape of college students and for some reason considered adults.” Keith said, swatting away Lance’s hand. “But, to answer your question, Pidge, it’s because it was the cheapest place we could find close to campus and after sharing a room for so long, we didn’t really think too much of it.”

Pidge nodded.

“Oh, that makes sense, then.” She said.

“Alright, boyfriend of mine, you ready to go out there and shove our happiness in Lotor’s face?” Lance asked. Keith nodded with a smile and pulled out his packet of earplugs again.

The three of them headed back towards the main room, and were greeted by the sound of music and the sight of people dancing.

Pidge took a deep breath, determined to find Shiro. Maybe apologize. Maybe ask him to dance. Maybe both.

Then, she froze when she actually saw him… dancing with Allura…

Well. She couldn’t blame him. Allura was gorgeous. Closer to his age. Tall and fit and fast and had she mentioned gorgeous?

Were they dating? She didn’t know. But it made sense for Shiro—who was some sort of male Pygmalion—to be more interested in Allura than some small, dorky, socially awkward freshman.

“Hey, Pidge.” Keith said, a bit loudly. She snapped herself out of her sad reverie and looked at him. He offered his hand out. “Wanna dance with us?”

Pidge smiled some and nodded, joining Keith and Lance to make a triangle of dancing.

After the massive miscommunication involving Shiro and Keith, she was going to approach this differently, she was determined. But not tonight.

Tonight she was going to dance with her friends. Because she was not going to let her life be ruled by her feelings for some guy. At least, that’s what she told herself.

*

Sunday consisted of a well-earned sleeping-in session, followed by catching up on some homework, and then a whole lot of memes.

But Monday… Monday Pidge made sure she got back into the routine of going to the gym. It was healthy for her, she knew. A good thing. She had felt the difference on the Quidditch pitch. She’d be grateful for it in a few years, too, compared to her previous sedentary lifestyle of her first semester.

Plus, there was always a chance Shiro would be there.

Now that was definitely a motivation to get up at some ungodly hour to go and torture her body in the name of a healthy lifestyle.

When she got there, all of the treadmills were occupied, even temperamental Red. She frowned and thought. Did she wait for one to be unoccupied? Or did she do something else?

She looked down at her legs. She had built up some endurance on the treadmill, and that benefitted when she was running around during practice and games. But her arms… She could get her arms stronger. That would mean harder, better throws of the Quaffle, right?

So she walked over to the weights. Now how did she go about this? Well, first she had to see what she could lift, right?

So she picked up a weight and tested it in her hands. Heavy, but lift-able. She decided to try the next size up and couldn’t even lift it. She went back to the first and put two of the weights on the bar.

 _Easy, right?_ She thought as she got on the bench underneath the bar.

She lifted.

_NOT EASY! NOT EASY! ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!_

She could lift it up but just barely, so that she couldn’t get it back on to the rack, and it was taking all her effort for it to not fall onto her chest, which she was sure would kill her.

Death by exercise. Screw a healthy lifestyle, that would teach her…

She couldn’t even cry out for help, but she didn’t need to. Suddenly, the bar was easily lifted up and onto the rack.

“Are you okay?” Her savior asked. Pidge looked up to see Shiro, and knew her face was beet red from more than the exertion.

“Y-Yes…” She said, crawling out from underneath. “I, uh, I didn’t expect it to be that heavy…”

_You sound like an idiot, you know that, right?_

_Shut up, brain._

“Um, we’ve got to stop meeting like this, seriously this is like the third time now…” Pidge said, rubbing their arm sheepishly.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get concerned by sporting events and exercise trying to kill you.” Shiro said as he put the weights back.

“I’ll, uh, try to not let it happen with Quidditch.” Pidge said, giving him a sheepish smile, which he returned, wiping his flesh hand off on his gray t-shirt that had a black castle and read _I WORK OUT SO I CAN CLIMB THE STAIRS AT HOGWARTS_.

“That’d be great, because I think that means I’ll have paperwork to fill out.” He said jokingly.

“Well, we can’t let that happen, now can we?” Pidge said, her smile growing a bit. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem,” Shiro said. “I actually wanted to say the same thing. For last night. I didn’t get a chance to.”

“That’s alright, it looked like you were having fun with Allura.” Pidge said, deciding to gingerly broach the topic. “Uh, you two seem really close…”

“Allura was one of my first friends at Altea,” Shiro explained, sitting on the bench beside her. “She was running late to class and ran into me, literally, and spilled her iced coffee on me. She promised to make it up to me if I went to The Castle later that day, and I did and we’ve been friends ever since.”

She mentally sighed in relief.

_Friends, huh? Just friends…_

Which meant it was time for another hard conversation…

“Um, speaking of being friends, are we friends?” Pidge asked.

Shiro frowned, but stiffened some. 

“Of course we are.” He said, voice a bit tight, not necessarily looking at her.

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” Pidge asked, shoulders slumping.

“No!” Shiro said quickly. “No, no. It’s just… I, uh…” He took a deep breath. “Look. The other night, when you… saw… my arm… I… I wasn’t sure what you thought and I’m really self-conscious and sensitive about it, and I just… I didn’t want you to pity me or anything because of it. And it’s kind of why I snapped at you last night, which I am really, really sorry about, I just really don’t like people touching it which is kind of stupid but—” He sighed, spreading both of his hands out in front of him as if to say ‘but there it is’.

“I don’t!” Pidge said quickly, eyes wide. “Pity you. I mean, it’s bad that you lost your arm somehow—which I totally get is some sort of backstory that needs to be unlocked but also it’s cool if you never say what happened—and now I’m sounding stupid and not—I mean to say, I think your arm is kind of cool. Wow that also sounds wrong… But I’m studying arms like yours! Okay, that’s definitely wrong… Sorry, I’m studying prosthetics and medical engineering. Learning how to build them and make them better and stuff and so I’m sorry if I freaked out out, and yeah, sorry, rambling, I’m going to stop now…”

She clamped her mouth shut before she could verbally vomit any more, looking at her lap.

“Pidge…” Shiro said, voice soft. “I’m sorry. I over-reacted and treated you in a way I shouldn’t have because of it. I’m really, really sorry…”

“No, you had every right to react like you did.” Pidge argued, looking up at him, frowning. “It’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t have done what I did… I’m sorry.”

“If we’re just going to go back and forth saying sorry to each other, can we cut out the middle part and just agree to put it behind us?” Shiro asked, giving her a small smile.

Pidge followed suit.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She said.

“Alright, then.” Shiro said. “You want me to help you get started on these weights? In a way that you don’t nearly kill yourself?”

“That would be great.” Pidge said. “Thanks.”

“What are friends for?” Shiro said, standing up and holding out his hand for her.

The right hand, she noticed as she accepted it.

Friends…

It was as good of a start as any.


	14. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so... I finished my spring semester then almost immediately started two summer classes--the last two I need to graduate with my Bachelors degree! One of these classes is centered around writing a 35 page paper, so I don't know what's going to happen regarding updates from now until the end of June. But, for now, here's a chapter!

Shiro grinned as he read the e-mail again.

Someone had come to their last match and was interested in playing!

His bad luck at the beginning of the semester was just a fluke after all! Look at how well things were turning out!

He clicked the “reply” button and started writing a response.

**Hi, Ricky! I’m glad to hear you’re interested in joining the Quidditch team! We have a practice on Thursday night at seven P.M. Let me know if you can come. –Takashi Shirogane, Co-Captain.**

He hit ‘send’ with a stupid grin on his face. They’d have a more-than-full team in no time at this rate!

He immediately posted this news to the team group-chat.

**Shay-the-Bae: How exciting!**

**PrincessAllura: This is great! Any idea what position he is interested in?**

**Hunky-Dory: What’s his name?**

**Black_Lion: He hasn’t mentioned a position, he’s just coming to try it out. And his name’s Ricky.**

**Stabby-McStabber: Ever met him before?**

**Black_Lion: No, never heard of him until he sent me an e-mail this morning.**

**The_Pigeon: Wait, Ricky Andrews? Is that his name?**

**Black_Lion: Yeah, that is. How did you know?**

**The_Pigeon: He’s in my chem class. He sits beside me.**

**Merman_Walking: “It’s a small world after all…”**

**Stabby-McStabber: Nice guy?**

**The_Pigeon: I guess? We don’t talk much, to be honest. But he’s invited me to come join his study group a few times. Never gone, though.**

**Nerd-is-the-Word: Sorry, Shiro, I’ve got to ditch practice on Thursday night.**

**Black_Lion: Better have a good reason, Matt.**

**Nerd-is-the-Word: I have a group project and the other two are idiots and Thursday night’s the only time I can get them in the same location without a keg being involved. At least, that’s the plan…**

**Merman_Walking: Boo, group projects!**

**Nerd-is-the-Word: Yeah, clearly not my idea…**

**Black_Lion: Can’t be helped then. Good luck, Matt.**

**Nerd-is-the-Word: Thanks, man. I’m gonna need it…**

**Shay-the-Bae: Well, Shiro, it looks like ‘Chaser’ is becoming our default introductory Quidditch position…**

**Black_Lion: That will work great; see how fast he is and what aim he’s got already.**

**Shay-the-Bae: I’ll put together some Chaser drills if you want to work with Hunk and Keith and then do a sort-of scrimmage.**

**Merman_Walking: Can I play Keeper in this sort-of scrimmage? Please? Pretty please?**

**Shay-the-Bae: I’ll let the Chasers take turns throwing the Quaffle at you during the drills too if you’re that determined to play Keeper, Lance!**

**Merman_Walking: YES!**

**Stabby-McStabber: Should we be concerned that he wants to have Allura, Pidge and a stranger throw balls at his head?**

**Hunky-Dory: Probably.**

*

Thursday evening arrived and Shiro was positively giddy with anticipation.

“Shiro, you should really consider switching to decaf…” Hunk observed as he watched Shiro practically bounce around the practice area.

“I tried the other night, but he didn’t even notice when I give him the Sleepytime blend of tea, and actually stayed up longer.” Keith said. Shiro froze in arranging the balls laid out on the sideline, then glared at Keith.

“I knew it didn’t taste right…” He said accusingly. “I should have known you were up to something when you offered to make me a cup of tea…”

“You took my Redbull and Pixy Stix.” Keith said with a shrug. “All’s fair in love, war, and caffeine.”

“He’s not wrong, dude.” Lance said.

“This the place?”

The four males turned to see a tall white guy approach, dressed in pale pink shorts, a blue polo shirt with the collar popped, sunglasses hanging from the shirt’s unbuttoned V, and white shoes, his blond hair clearly having product in it.

Shiro quickly stepped past Lance, who gave a snort of laughter at the newcomer’s appearance, and stuck out his hand.

“You must be Ricky. I’m Takashi Shirogane, co-captain. You can call me Shiro.” He said. Ricky shook his hand, but raised an eyebrow at Shiro’s gloved hand.

“Whoa, dude, that’s one power-grip you got there.” He commented.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” Shiro said, quickly bringing his arm to his side, his fingers unconsciously curling.

“Shiro gets a little enthusiastic when the team gets new people.” Hunk said, deftly covering for Shiro.

“I can tell.” Ricky said, looking at Shiro’s Hufflepuff Quidditch shirt. He glanced at his watch before sticking his hands in his pockets, looking around. “So… When does Katie usually get here?”

“She’ll be here soon, and she prefers ‘Pidge’.” Shiro said.

“Oh yeah… I keep forgetting. You know, I didn’t take her for one of those girls who ‘reinvent’ themselves as freshmen at college at first.” Ricky said. He shrugged. “Most of them don’t keep it up second-semester, though, so got to give her credit for that. But that’s a weird name ‘Pidge’. But chicks are weird, am I right?”

None of the four Quidditch players answered, because fortunately Pidge, Allura and Shay all arrived at that time. Ricky then seemed to zero in on Pidge, chatting with her as they warmed up. Or, rather, chatted to her because she didn’t seem to be making many responses and more interested in asking Hunk about his latest project.

Introductions were quickly made and they divided into two groups, Shiro taking Hunk and Keith over to work on something while the Chasers and Lance went to the other side. As they went towards their end of the field, Hunk whispered,

“I’m not sure how I feel about this guy, but I’m not sure it’s a good feeling...”

“Same.” Keith said.

“Guys, come on, he’s not that bad…” Shiro said, though admittedly the exchange about Pidge had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. He wasn’t sure why Pidge didn’t go by Katie, but he respected her preferred name request.

Maybe it was a fluke. Nervousness. Trying to make conversation—albeit badly. He’d been there, he’d made that situation awkward. It happened.

But he wasn’t expecting Shay to call for a break ten minutes earlier than planned, hobbling over to Shiro with a grim expression.

“I need you to take over with the Chasers.” She said in a low voice.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked, glancing down at her knee in its brace—no crutches today, her doctor said that she could go short periods of time without them. Did she push herself too hard? “Are you in pain?”

“No, it’s just…” She bit her lip. “Um… Look, I think Ricky might be flirting?”

“With you?” Shiro asked, feeling confused. Shay shook her head.

“With Pidge.” She said. 

“Okay…” Shiro said, processing. Well, this explained some things, like his earlier inquiries about Pidge…

“And you know how Lance flirts?” Shay asked.

“Yes.”

“With all the cheesy pick-up lines and stuff?”

“Yep, he’s used quite a few on me in the past.”

“Well, Ricky’s flirting… isn’t like that…” Shay said.

Shiro straightened some.

“Is he being aggressive?” He asked.

“That’s the thing, Allura, Lance and I aren’t entirely sure. Allura’s the one who suggested we break and the only reason she’s not over here talking to you about it is that one of us needed to stick with Pidge and Allura is quite easily the more intimidating out of all of us. But, see, we can’t tell if Pidge is bothered by it or not.”

Shiro glanced past Shay to see Pidge sitting on the bench, eyes on her phone while Ricky sat beside her, talking about something—whether to her or not he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that Pidge was offering a universal sign of “don’t speak to me” by looking at her phone. He did notice that Lance was deliberately sitting on Pidge’s other side while Allura stood at the end of the bench, watching them over her water bottle.

“I’ll switch with you, no problem.” Shiro told Shay, who breathed a small sigh of relief. He nodded then walked over to the other players. “Alright, slight change of plans. Hunk, Keith, Shay’s going to work with you two for a bit. I want to evaluate Ricky as a Chaser and Lance as a Keeper.”

It wasn’t a lie, really. He and Shay had been discussing seeing who would be best suited for an alternate position in the case of someone getting injured as Shay had. Lance had the height and speed for Keeper like Shiro did, and Shiro was interested to see if he had the same capabilities.

But he also wanted to evaluate Ricky, but not necessarily as a Chaser.

Resuming after the break started well. While Shay had started the Chasers off with an easy drill of taking shots on the Keeper as if in a penalty situation, Shiro started having them start at mid-field to carry the Quaffle and make a run for the goal. Shiro stood on the midline, watching with his arms folded over his chest as Allura ran down the field towards Lance, Quaffle tucked under her arm. Beside him, he listened intently to the conversation Ricky had started with Pidge. Fortunately, this seemed to be Quidditch related—giving Shiro a moment to breath a momentary sigh of relief.

“Any tips for how to hold this broomstick and the Quaffle?” Ricky asked Pidge.

“Yeah, I hold the broom like this,” Pidge said, showing him. “But it usually shifts into a different hold when I don’t have the Quaffle.”

“Like this?” Ricky asked, mimicking Pidge’s hand positions on his own loaner broom.

“Yeah, just like that, try it on your turn.” Pidge said, nodding.

And things went well… for another five minutes.

Pidge went after Allura, then Ricky, then Allura took her turn again. And Shiro heard Ricky say to Pidge,

“You were right, it did work really well.” He said.

“That’s great!” Pidge said.

“Yeah. You’re really good at this.”

“Oh, no, not really. Still learning. This is only my first season.”

“Still, you make it seem so… natural…”

Pidge didn’t say anything in response, but a quick glance out of the corner of his eye told Shiro that she simply shrugged. 

“Well, you’re good with this stick,” Ricky continued, gesturing to the broom. He grinned. “But, you know, I bet you’d be really great at riding other sticks.”

Shiro tensed, blood boiling.

No. No he did not just…

He wanted to believe he misheard.

But he told himself that was stupid and he turned around, but whatever angry remark he was going to say was cut off when Pidge innocently tilted her head to the side and said,

“But I don’t know how to drive a car with a manual transmission. I think that’d be a lot harder to learn than how to use a broom for Muggle Quidditch.”

Shiro blinked, and so did Ricky, who wisely did not respond.

Shiro called for the end of practice five minutes later, which was a sign for the team members to know that something was wrong, as they had only been practicing for half their usual time. Before he could get too far, Shiro clapped his hand onto Ricky’s shoulder and said,

“Come talk with me.”

Ricky did so, following Shiro to the hoops. Shiro folded his arms over his chest and said,

“You’re not really interested in Quidditch, are you? You’re interested in Pidge.”

“I saw her play last weekend, and I figured I’d come out here and show her that we have chemistry out of the lab building,” Ricky said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been trying since the beginning of the semester to get her to come over for a fun little study date. You know. One on one. But she’s denser than a post, you know? Don’t know how she got in here. Don’t know how I haven’t gotten her into my dorm yet, either, though…”

Shiro closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and internally chanted:

_I will not kill this little quiznaker, I will not kill this little quiznaker, I will not bash what little brains he has with my broom, I will not punch him so hard he crosses at least one state line, I will not put my hands around his throat, I will not…_

He had to stop internally chanting before the chants started involving hiding bodies in the woods.

And it did nothing to stop his anger.

He opened his eyes, narrowing them at Ricky.

“I don’t care what you think you have with Pidge. A crush? Fine. Flirting? Also fine. But I don’t think I saw Pidge once be comfortable around you tonight. That’s taking it too far. So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re not going to join the team. Just not going to happen. And you’re going to leave Pidge alone. She’s clearly does not accept your advances, so back the quiznak off. And if I find out you have still been harassing her after this—in particularly while in class—you had better change your name and book a one-way flight to somewhere really, really far away because otherwise I will find you and forcibly remove your head from where it is currently stuck up your ass. You just thank your lucky stars you got a warning from me and that her big brother wasn’t here, because he’s an astrophysics major and I can assure you that your body would never be found because it’s in a black hole or got shot into the sun if he saw how you’ve treated his sister.”

Shiro hadn’t meant for to raise his voice, he especially hadn’t meant for Pidge and the rest of the team to hear him threatening Ricky. But yet, when he angrily turned away from Ricky to snatch up the hoops, the first thing he saw was his team, standing there in a mixture of horror and awe.

He felt his face turn red for a reason other than anger, focusing on grabbing the hoops. When he turned around, Ricky was gone.

“So. That was both impressive and scary. Like, that was more intimidating than the shovel talk you gave me when Keith and I started going out.” Lance said casually when Shiro made his way back over to the bench.

“Lance, for your own sake, you should probably shut up.” Allura suggested when Shiro glared at Lance.

Lance held up his hands innocently.

Shiro sighed as he put the equipment in the bag, then looked over at Pidge, who was sitting on the bench, looking down dejectedly at her water bottle.

“You okay, Pidge?” He asked.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, reaching up to brush her cheek with the back of her hand. 

_Quiznak, was she crying? Why was she crying?_

“Why are you sorry? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Shay said, gently putting her hand on Pidge’s shoulder. “If anyone should be apologizing, it should be Ricky.”

Pidge shook her head, still not looking up.

“I’m sorry, Shiro…” She said.

Shiro walked over and knelt in front of her, gently placing his hands over hers.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. You are okay, right?” Shiro asked, suddenly panicking.

She lifted her head some and he saw how watery her eyes were.

“I’m sorry…” She said again. “We don’t have a new team member because of me.”

“No, no that’s not true.” Shiro said.

Pidge pulled her hands back and pressed them to her eyes.

“It’s my fault, you were so excited… Quiznak, I’m so stupid. And now I can’t stop crying because I’m so stupid.” She said.

Realization hit Shiro like a Bludger to the nose, suddenly, blindingly and painfully.

“Pidge, let me see if I understand this right,” He said, heart aching some. “You didn’t say anything to anyone about how you felt, that you were uncomfortable. Because I was excited about having a new team member?”

Pidge nodded, hands still pressed to her face.

“Oh, Pidge,” Hunk said, coming over to her side. “You want a hug? You look like you need a hug.”

Pidge did, in fact, need a hug, because she promptly turned and buried her face in Hunk’s chest, the small young woman nearly completely hidden from view as Hunk wrapped his arms around her.

Anger quickly melted into guilt and settled into dread in the pit of Shiro’s stomach.

“Pidge,” Shiro said. “I’m the one who should apologize. Yeah, I was excited. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to voice your thoughts and emotions about new players, okay? I’m really, really sorry that you felt like you couldn’t say anything. Can you promise me to voice any issues you have with anyone—whether they’re perspective members or already on the team—and I’ll promise to do everything in my power to make sure that this is a non-toxic environment for everyone?”

Pidge turned her face towards Shiro and stretched her hand out towards him, which he gladly took, giving her hand a small squeeze.

It was enough to know that there was that promise between them.

“Okay, group hug time?” Lance asked. Pidge nodded, and that was everyone’s que to throw their arms around Hunk and Pidge for the group hug.

There was only one thing that bothered Shiro about that evening, and that was his own reaction to Ricky. Sure, he could admit he sometimes had a short temper, and Ricky’s words and behavior had really riled him up.

But he didn’t think he had ever felt that angry before, even in the days that followed waking up in the hospital without an arm.

 _It’s because Matt’s one of your best friends, and Pidge is Matt’s little sister, and Pidge is one of your friends. Ergo, as both Pidge’s friend and by being friends with her older brother, your anger at her mistreatment by a stupid guy was simply amplified by those two contributing factors._ He told himself. That was certainly it.

Right?


	15. Pidge

“Thank you ever so much for assisting me with this project, Pidge.” Allura said as she continued to cut out paper hearts at The Castle Café table.

“No problem, I needed a study break.” Pidge said as she glued paper lace to the back of a heart.

With Valentine’s Day quickly approaching and it being Nyma’s day off, Allura had asked Pidge to come over and help her decorate The Castle. Apparently, The Castle had a lot of business on that day, and even if they didn’t, Allura loved making the café look festive for whatever the occasion.

“So, do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Allura asked.

“Nope. No Valentine, no plans. Well, there is one plan that involves going and buying all the discounted candy on the fifteenth. But none with a special guy or girl.” Pidge admitted. “What about you?”

Allura smiled as she carefully punched a small hole in one of the hearts to put clear plastic twine through for hanging it up.

“Just me, a glass of wine, and a Skype chat with my date-friend.” She said.

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Pidge said. “I’m guessing they don’t live close by?”

“No. They’re not even in the same time-zone. They attend university in England. Our relationship has pretty much been defined by seeing each other only during the summer and Christmas and over Skype. They live next door to my grandparents, so we became friends and played together as children whenever I visited, and as we grew older it became… more.” Allura explained.

“Do you think that if we make it to Regionals this summer, they’ll come watch us play?” Pidge asked.

“That is the plan. Well, they were going to visit during the timespan of Regionals even if we don’t make it. It’ll be their first trip to America, and I can’t wait to introduce you all.” Allura said, finishing cutting out a paper heart. “There, that should be enough, don’t you think?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think, it’s your Café.” Pidge pointed out. Allura shrugged.

“Well, let’s get these hanging up, shall we?” Allura said, standing up to go find the ladder.

Pidge held the ladder for Allura as she hung up the strands of paper hearts.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Allura said. “Is everything okay in your Chem class? With Ricky?”

“Yeah, apparently Shiro scared him enough that he moved to the opposite end of the classroom. Confused the quiznak out of the professor.” Pidge said. “I need to thank Shiro for that. He usually kept trying to talk to me during class and it was hard to focus.”

“And Matt? How did he take everything when you told him what happened?” Allura asked.

“I didn’t have to. That was another Shiro thing, I’m assuming. Matt showed up at my dorm, out of breath and trying to hug the life out of me and started making calculations for sending Ricky to Pluto.” Pidge said.

“Hmm, Pluto is good, but there is a more likely probability of him not coming back if he was sent to Pluto’s moon of Kerberos.” Slav said from behind the counter, not looking up from the syrup bottles he was arranging.

“Why Kerberos?” Pidge asked, looking over her shoulder. Slav shrugged.

“Do not argue with the probabilities.” He said.

“What are the probabilities of you actually helping us with these decorations, Slav?” Allura asked, narrowing her eyes some.

Slav blanched a little and said in a shaky voice,

“And expose me to the incredibly high probabilities of acquiring a paper cut or falling off the ladder?”

“Slav, really?” Allura said with a sigh.

Slav gripped one of his fingers with his other hand, saying,

“I can already feel my vital life blood oozing out of my finger…”

“Alright, I get it.” Allura said, rolling her eyes.

Pidge passed up another decoration to her.

“Hey, Allura,” She said hesitantly. “Would it… would it be weird to ask someone out on a date for Valentine’s Day? Even if you’re not dating and you don’t know how that person feels about you?”

“It depends, really. Is this a friendly ‘let’s not be alone on Valentine’s Day and hang out’ kind of date or a romantic one?” Allura asked.

“Um, maybe both? Depending on how it goes?” Pidge said. “I’m not even really one-hundred percent sure he’s single. Or interested in girls.”

“Then I believe the next question and dependent factor is, who is it?” Allura asked. “Anyone I know?”

“Yes.” Pidge said, feeling incredibly nervous as she said, “Shiro.”

Allura paused and looked down at Pidge, a look of confusion and shock on her face.

“Shiro?” She repeated, stepping down from the ladder.

Pidge nodded, face red.

“Uh, yeah. I maybe kinda sorta like him?” She said, hating how her voice squeaked some. “But I also kind of thought he was dating Keith at one point? And you at another point? So now I don’t know if he is actually dating anyone, and it might not even matter if he’s not interested in girls. I mean, if he’s gay, just go ahead and tell me and then we can pretend this conversation never happened and promise you won’t tell…”

“Slow down, Pidge.” Allura said, giving her a comforting smile. “Yes, Shiro is single.”

Pidge felt a huge grin split her face, her heart soaring.

“Really!” Pidge said excitedly.

_Tone it down, girl, you still have to find out if he’s gay or not…_

“I mean, really?” Pidge said, lowering her voice a bit and trying to play it casual.

Allura chuckled some, but her face became a bit serious.

“Look… I will confirm to you that Shiro is queer. It’s not my place to out him.” She said.

“I thought Shiro was not in the pantry.” Slav said, popping up from behind the bake-case.

“The closet, Slav.” Allura corrected. “It’s the closet.”

“Closet makes no sense. There is food in the pantry. Your probability of surviving will go up if you hide in the pantry over a closet.” Slav said, shaking his head and making a tssk-ing noise.

Allura closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and smiling at Pidge.

“Anyways.” She said.

“But if Shiro’s not in the closet, why won’t you tell me?” Pidge asked, frowning some.

“Again, it’s not my place to do so. I don’t feel comfortable discussing such matters behind Shiro’s back.” Allura said.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure it’s not my place to say, ‘Hey, Shiro, what gender do you find yourself sexually attracted to? Just, let me know so I can either stop pining or ask you out on a date’.” Pidge said.

Allura smiled at that.

“Believe me, that is not how you want to approach the topic.” She said. “But I do not know how to advise you to do so. But the moment will come, perhaps unexpectedly.”

Allura stepped down from the ladder and put her hands on Pidge’s shoulders.

“While I will support you in your endeavor, I cannot recommend asking Shiro out at this point in time. There need to be conversations between the two of you prior to that, for the sake of you both. I do think your feelings are valid, and that you should tell Shiro about your feelings, and I know that he will respect them. But I cannot guarantee that he will reciprocate at this point.”

“I understand,” Pidge said with a nod. She frowned and looked at her shoes before looking up at Allura again and said, “Okay, but you think there’s a chance I might still have a shot with him? If, like, the stars and planets align just right?”

Allura smiled again and said,

“Yes, it could happen.”

“So, if you’re saying there’s some way I might just have a chance, logic and reason dictate that what you’re also saying is he’s not gay?” Pidge said, grinning slightly.

Allura laughed.

“Interesting way of going about getting that answer out of me, but you are correct. Shiro is queer but not gay.” She said.

“Yes!” Pidge said triumphantly.

“You know, Pidge, the probabilities of dating Shiro are very high for you in this reality. In fact, they are high for you in several realities.” Slav said, leaning over the counter. He frowned, then said, “Well… There is one reality where everything is a little off-kilter… According for the probabilities for that reality, Shiro could very well date any member of the Quidditch team. Or even myself.” Slav shrugged. “Eh. I blame the giant robot for messing with the numbers.”

“Giant… You know what, I’m just going to let that one go for today.” Allura said with a sigh.

The bell above the door jingled as Professor Alfor Arus walked in carrying a stack of papers. He smiled at his daughter and Pidge.

“You ladies did a wonderful decorating job.” He said, setting the papers down on a table to remove his bag and jacket.

“Thank you, Father.” Allura said, crossing across the room with a dancer’s grace to hug her father. He pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head, then turned to Pidge. 

“I was hoping to see you soon, Miss Holt.” He said.

“Really?” Pidge said, brow furrowing as she paused in sweeping up the little slivers of paper that covered their work table. “Why?”

“I was incredibly impressed by your work last semester when you were in my class, and I was hoping you would participate in a research presentation event specifically for freshman here at Altea.” Professor Arus said, digging into his bag for a piece of paper. He stepped across the café to put the flyer in Pidge’s hands.

“So, it’s basically a science fair for big kids.” Pidge said, looking over the flyer. Professor Arus chuckled.

“Basically.” He said. “It’s not exactly a competition as it is a showcase. Everyone has their own declared major, but everyone has a goal as part of that major. This is an opportunity to show your peers and your professors what you want to do in the world, something you may not as easily be able to do in classes with assigned work and projects. You are studying prostheses, correct? This would give you a chance to develop your own. You will not necessarily need to build one, but you will need prove that it can work.”

Pidge looked up at the engineering professor.

“I… I don’t know,” She admitted. “Can I think about it?”

“Certainly.” Professor Arus said. “It is ultimately your decision. The entry deadline is at the end of spring break, and the actual presentation is at the end of June. But if you do enter, I am very interested to see what you enter.”

Pidge nodded.

“Thank you,” She said.

She had a lot to think about.

She had already been thinking about Shiro, but now she was more specifically thinking about Shiro’s arm. She was proud of the design, but less proud that it was her idea and then she let others take control of the project, not staying involved. She was determined to do better, be better, think of bigger and better ideas this time.

But was she really ready to make her grand entrance into the world of prosthetics so soon?


	16. Shiro

Shiro had never really understood the concept of looking up your exes on social media. Maybe it was because he didn’t have an ex. But mostly it was because he was pretty sure that it only ended with brooding and sulking and feeling horrible about yourself. What satisfaction did one get out of doing this to yourself? He was determined to never do that, to sink that low.

Well. He was pretty sure he was now really, really low. Like near the center of the earth low. Maybe that would explain why he felt so hot, like his blood was burning.

He glared at his laptop screen. Or, more accurately, he glared at the Galra Tech Dracos Quidditch Team Facebook Page, displaying the team’s stats.

Galra had played one more game than Altea had already. It would be two in a few days. So far, both their games had been wins, their opponents almost savagely crushed.

Worse, Zarkon was still publically calling for Shiro’s surrender. Online. For the entire world to see.

A picture of the Galra Beaters after their most recent victory, both grinning and holding up the Bludgers. The caption read: **Beat that #AlteaULionsQuidditch. Oh, wait, you can’t.**.

Somedays Shiro was positive that the internet and social media was a mistake.

But then he looked at the meme that Pidge has posted in response: a de-motivational poster with an annoyed looking Hogwarts trio, a shot from the first film, with the caption **Stupify: When shut up isn’t enough.**

Okay, the internet had its perks. 

It had memes. Memes were good. And sometimes—like wine and cheese—they got better with age. 

And Pidge apparently had an arsenal of _Harry Potter_ -related memes. 

Shiro barely even noticed the door opening and Keith entering the apartment. 

“I’m home!” He called out, kicking off his shoes. 

“Hey.” Shiro said, eyes not leaving the Galra Tech Facebook feed. “How was your day?” 

“Same as usual.” Keith said, flopping onto the couch, Captain Purr-Card hopping up beside him and rubbing his head against Keith’s thigh. Keith gently pet the cat on the head and said, “What are you glaring at?” 

“I’m not glaring.” Shiro argued. 

“You’re looking like you wish you had laser-vision so that you could disintegrate your laptop screen. Which is a really bad idea because you kind of need that.” Keith pointed out. “So, what’s the deal?” 

“Galra,” Shiro said. “They’re going to have three games before we even have our second game next weekend.” 

“Come on, you know everyone just likes to get their loss to Galra Tech done and out of the way early on in the season.” Keith said. 

“Yeah, but I feel like we’re lagging behind.” 

“We’re not.” Keith said. “Just… Chill, okay? More to life than Quidditch, and you can’t keep letting the Galra get to you.” 

Shiro sighed and exited Facebook, closing his laptop. 

“Why are you so calm and chill when I’m like this and not the rest of the time?” Shiro asked. 

“I don’t know, I think we have a symbiotic relationship that makes it work that way. I’m calm when it comes to you freaking out about Quidditch, and you’re calm the rest of the time when I’m freaking out. It just works.” Keith said with a shrug. He reached into his bag and pulled out a book, turning so that he was laying down on the couch, feet propped up on the end. Captain Purr-Card briefly hopped onto Keith’s stomach then onto the back of the couch, curling up for a nap. “Look, if it bugs you so bad, don’t sit around and mope. Do something about it.” 

“Like what?” Shiro asked. 

“The Galra came to our game. Go to theirs. It’ll give you ideas and stuff for us. Don’t think for a second that Zarkon didn’t have another motive for coming to watch us play other than maybe watch us humiliate ourselves and to stress us out.” Keith said, starting to read. 

Shiro sat there for a moment and thought. 

That… 

That was a good idea. A brilliant idea. 

All was fair in love, war and Quidditch, right? 

“Okay, good idea. But I can’t go alone.” Shiro said out-loud. “I’ll look like a loser if I go alone.” 

"Then don’t go alone.” Keith said, turning the page of his book. 

“Does that mean you’re volunteering?” Shiro asked. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Keith said, shrugging his shoulder some. 

“Great, their next game is Tuesday night at six and so we’ll need to leave here at about—” Shiro started but Keith laid his book on his chest and sat up some. 

“Oh, wait, this Tuesday night? Sorry, Shiro, I can’t go.” He said. 

“But you don’t work on Tuesdays and your last class ends at three.” Shiro said. 

“Yeah, but I have plans with Lance that night.” Keith said. 

“Well, Lance can come too!” Shiro said, putting his laptop on the coffee table. “The more the merrier, right?” 

“Yeah, no.” Keith said, frowning. “No offense, Shiro, but the romance of date night kind of gets sucked away when you bring in your best friend slash roommate into your date night plans. Besides, Lance would be pissed off with you, because he’s the one doing the actual planning here, and he keeps bragging about how he’s going to make it the most perfect date night I have ever experienced. Blood might get shed if you even suggested he drop all those plans to go watch the Galra play Quidditch.” 

Shiro frowned, but also understood. 

“Alright, that’s fine.” Shiro said. “I’ll see if someone else wants to go with me.” 

Keith returned to his book with a small scoff. 

“Good luck with that.” He said. 

Shiro frowned, but couldn’t quite figure out why Keith sounded distinctly sarcastic. 

* 

He tracked down Shay first. As his co-captain, the two could plan better and talk strategy from watching the Galra play. But when he found her in the geology lab the next morning, she looked up from the rock she was studying, frowned, and said, 

“This Tuesday? Shiro, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Hunk and I have plans that night.” 

“Well, bring Hunk too, then!” Shiro said, resisting the urge to sigh. 

“Uh, sorry, no.” Shay said, shaking her head. “Can’t we just go to their next match?" 

“Their next match is an away game, and they won’t have another home match until the end of March!” Shiro said. “Come on, Shay! Please?” 

Shay leaned back on her stool some and frowned. 

“No.” She said again, a little more firmly this time. “I understand why you want to go, but Hunk and I have plans. Plans that happen to involve my wonderfully talented boyfriend cooking me dinner and snuggling on the couch. You could not pay me to give that up. And Hunk will say the same thing.” 

Shiro did sigh. 

“Alright. Fine. Okay. I understand.” He said, trying to contain his frustration. “I’ll just… I’ll ask Allura and the Holts, then.” 

Shay turned back to her rock, shaking her head slightly as she said, 

“Let me save you some time—and save your life—and tell you to skip asking Allura.” 

“Why?” Shiro asked. 

“Because her plans for that afternoon involve Skyping with her date-friend four time-zones away.” Shay said, making a note on the pad beside her. “She’s ferocious about protecting that time. As you know from experience.” 

Shiro did know. 

He tried to add an extra practice in the previous semester, unknowingly on the same night that Allura had Skype plans. 

Allura had not approved, and made him well aware of that… 

Yeah… He wasn’t going to invoke that beast again… 

“Thanks,” Shiro said, heading out of the geology lab. 

What was so special about Tuesday that everyone had plans with their significant other? 

* 

“You’re pouting.” Keith said as he checked in a book. 

“I’m not pouting…” Shiro mumbled into his arms where he leaned over the circulation desk at the library in front of Keith. 

“You totally are, and I swear if you get me in trouble with my boss, it will perpetually be your turn to clean the bathroom.” Keith said as moved through the stack of returned books. 

Shiro huffed and straightened up. 

“I can’t believe everyone has plans on Tuesday night.” He complained. Okay, maybe he was pouting a little… 

“Oh come on, you just admitted you haven’t asked either Pidge or Matt. So you can’t say that for sure.” Keith said, going over to retrieve another stack of books. “And even if you go by yourself, it won’t be that bad.” 

“Yeah, it will. I’ll look like some Quidditch obsessed loser who has nothing better to do.” Shiro said. 

Keith arched an eyebrow and looked at Shiro’s _Quidditch is my Cardio_ t-shirt. 

“ _No_ , where would _anyone_ get _that_ idea…?” Keith said, his deadpan face not matching his voice dripping in sarcasm. 

Shiro frowned as he looked down. 

“Fair enough…” He said, tugging on the hem of his shirt. 

Keith set down his stack of books and started scanning them. 

“You know,” He said, looking down to hide his face, which Shiro knew was a bad sign. “If you’re really desperate, you could just ask Slav.” 

Shiro cringed at the thought of an hour round trip to Galra Tech’s campus and back with Slav. 

Shiro liked Slav, he really did… But in small doses. And with a good bit of distance between them. 

Keith finished scanning the stack of books, put them on the cart, then looked past Shiro. 

“Oh, hey, there’s Pidge.” Keith said. “Go ask her.” 

Shiro turned to see Pidge approaching the counter, her arms full of books. She looked up at them and smiled. 

“Oh, hi, Shiro. Hey Keith!” She said cheerfully, setting the books down, then sticking her hand in her pocket for her ID for check-out. “What’s up?” 

“Hey,” Shiro said. “Are you by any chance busy on Tuesday night?” 

Pidge’s ID card slipped out of their fingers and Shiro instantly bent down to pick it up for her, holding it up for her. 

“Tuesday?” She said, voice a bit shaky as she took back her card. “As in this Tuesday?” 

“Yeah, I was wondering if you’d go somewhere with me that night.” Shiro said, standing up again. 

“I’d love to!” Pidge said, smiling. 

“Great! Thank you!” Shiro said, grinning. “How about I pick you up at your dorm at about five-thirty?” 

“It’s a date!” Pidge said, a wide smile spread across her face. She grabbed her newly checked-out books and said, “I’ll see you then! Well, I’ll see you before then, because we have practice tomorrow night, and it’s a small campus and, uh, anyways, I can’t wait for Tuesday!” 

With that, she took her books, gave him another huge smile, then headed for the doors. 

“See?” Shiro said, turning to Keith with a grin of his own. “Someone other than me is excited about this.” 

Keith’s eyes narrowed just briefly and said, 

“It appears that way…” 

Shiro said good-bye to Keith and headed off to his next class, his steps feeling a little lighter. 

At least he could always count on Pidge. 


	17. Pidge

“ALLURA, HOLY QUIZNAK!” Pidge screamed as she threw open the door to The Castle Café, making Allura, Nyma and Slav all jump behind the counter and the customer at the counter—fortunately, just Lance—quickly moved out of the way as Pidge ran up, practically bouncing and eyes sparkling.

“Pidge, what the quiznak?” Allura said, her hand to her chest, eyes wide at the sudden surprise.

“The stars aligned!” Pidge cried out, twirling about in a circle, feeling absolutely giddy. “Shiro just asked _me_ out! For Valentine’s Day!”

“What? No way!” Lance said, also grinning. “Dang, you Chasers definitely know how to score in the dating department.”

“Shiro… Shiro asked you out?” Allura said, looking very surprised.

“Yes! Just now! At the library!” Pidge said, bouncing on her toes.

“Pidge,” Allura said calmly. “Let me say first and foremost that I am very happy for you.”

“So am I!” Nyma said, grinning. “Congrats!”

“Same here, Pigeon.” Lance said, holding out his hand for Pidge to high-five.

“The probabilities were always in your favor in this reality,” Slav added with a nod.

“But I do have some concerns,” Allura continued, raising her voice some. “Especially since I doubt that you and Shiro had those conversations I mentioned prior to this date invitation.”

“Allura, does it matter?” Pidge asked, feeling too happy and smug for Allura’s words to have any weight. “I like him, and he didn’t know it, and he still asked me out! So that means he also likes me, right?”

“Well, yes, but—” Allura started to say, but Lance cut her off.

“What are you going to wear?”

“I have no idea!” Pidge exclaimed, now suddenly panicking, eyes widening, smile dropping. “I have no idea!”

“Don’t worry, your best non-bio bro Lance here is more than happy to help you out.” Lance said, taking Pidge’s hands. She smiled up at him.

“Really? Thank you so much, Lance!”

“What friends and teammates are for.” He said. “Let’s get our orders to go then show me the closet!”

*

Twenty minutes later, Lance pursed his lips together and said,

“I said, show me the closet.”

“This is the closet.” Pidge said.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“What rest of it?”

Lance sighed as he pushed aside the sparse contents of the closet, mostly jackets and a few formal blouses and skirts.

“Pidge, do you own any dresses?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just didn’t bring them.” Pidge admitted. “They’re all at home.”

“Can you get one before Tuesday?” Lance asked.

“It kind of feels stupid to drive an hour and a half away for a dress, then drive back.” Pidge said with a shrug. “And I don’t think it’d get here in time if I asked my mom to mail me one.”

Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Sweaters,” He said, opening his eyes. “I know you have sweaters. Show me.”

Pidge showed him, practically emptying her dresser.

Lance picked up a pale green turtle-neck sweater and held it up to her.

“Do you like this one?”

“I wouldn’t have bought it or brought it to school if I didn’t.” Pidge pointed out.

Lance nodded, then went over and pulled out a knee-length dark-green skirt and held them up together.

“Got leggings or tights?” He asked.

Pidge pulled out a pair of white tights.

“What do you think?” Lance asked, laying out all three on the bed. “I think it looks cute.”

“It’s perfect!” Pidge said, grinning. “Jewelry?”

“Oh, definitely, show me what you’ve got!” Lance said.

*

Tuesday night finally arrived and Pidge was ecstatic. She had rushed out of her last class to get to the showers before the rest of the girls on her dorm floor, but not before pausing to give another look at the outfit she and Lance had put together. He had even taken the time to teach her how to do a new trick with her eyeliner. (“Years of being my older sisters’ test subject.” Lance had explained when Pidge asked how he knew how to wing eyeliner. “And I had to help my younger sister figure this out when our older sisters went off to college and Mom got put on the nightshift at the ER.”)

So she quickly showered, dried her hair, and braided it, before finally—finally—putting on the outfit that had been hanging up in her closet for the last three days.

The only thing that Pidge had added that Lance didn’t know about was the shoes. Originally, Lance had helped her pick out a pair of black suede boots that were cute and did go with the outfit. But, then she still somehow ended up inside the shoe store that was halfway between campus and The Castle. There was a sale, in her defense, and she was curious.

And then she found them: a cute pair of black heels. Low enough and thick enough that she didn’t feel like she was going to break her neck when she tried them on in the store, but high enough that they would also close the gap between her diminutive height and Shiro’s colossal height.

That they were fifty percent off had really sealed the deal.

It was fate, she knew it.

So it was with glee that she put on the shoes, which she had mentally dubbed “The Magic Shoes”. She did a few practice walks around her dorm, and then down the hall, grinning widely.

Feeling so sure and proud of herself, Pidge grabbed her purse and coat and headed for the dormitory entrance.

Shiro was waiting for her when she got down there, dressed in nice jeans and a black button-up shirt underneath his jacket. It suddenly hit her that she had never seen him wear anything other than his nerdy t-shirts or his Quidditch uniform before. But, man, did he look good…

“Hi!” She said, bounding up to him.

“Hey!” Shiro said, giving her a smile. Then, he blinked some and said, “Wow, you look really nice.”

“Thanks,” Pidge said, blushing some, mentally thanking Lance and promising to buy him a coffee. “You look nice tonight, too.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said, his gloved hand brushing over his shirt almost unconsciously. “Ready to go?”

“Yes!” Pidge said, nodding.

Shiro led her to his car, holding open the door for her.

“So, how was your day?” Shiro asked as they drove past the campus gates.

“It was good!” Pidge said. “I was so excited for tonight, I don’t think I paid much attention in class, though.”

Shiro laughed and said,

“Same. Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”

“Well, thanks for asking.” Pidge said. “I won’t lie, I was really, really happy when you asked.”

“And I was really happy you said yes,” Shiro said. “Are you excited for our match this weekend?”

“Yeah, against Olkari U, right?” Pidge said. “What do you know about them?”

“They’re a really good team,” Shiro said. “They almost made it to Regionals last spring. Lost to Galra Tech, though.”

“You think the Galra Tech team will come to our match again?” Pidge asked.

Shiro frowned.

“I hope not.” He said.

They continued chatting as Shiro drove, but Pidge couldn’t help but notice they had been driving for a really long time. She knew she and Shiro hadn’t exactly extensively discussed plans for the night, but she was confused as to why Shiro was driving so far away from campus.

She got very confused when he pulled the car through gates, with an arch overhead that read: **GALRA POLYTECHNIC INSTITUTE AND STATE UNIVERSITY**.

Now, Pidge hadn’t been on very many dates before, but she really, really had no idea what kind of date Shiro was taking her on.

And, honestly, at this point she was too afraid to ask.

Shiro parked the car near what was advertised as athletic practice fields, where a small crowd was already gathered at the side lines.

Still very confused, she got out of the car, walking alongside Shiro up to the table where a girl with dyed purple hair and multiple piercings sat, staring at her phone, looking bored.

“Five bucks a person.” She said, not looking up.

Shiro quickly pulled out his wallet and put a ten-dollar bill on the table.

“Thanks,” The girl said, swiping the bill with one hand while the other held her phone.

Pidge still had no clue what was going on or why they were at Galra Tech…

Until she saw very familiar hoops set up on either side of the field.

A Quidditch pitch.

The Galra team in their purple and black uniforms on one end, and an unfamiliar team on the other wearing dark blue.

Quidditch.

Shiro had brought her out to watch a Quidditch match? A Galra Quidditch match?

A thought suddenly struck her.

Maybe… Maybe this wasn’t a date…

She didn’t get long to think about that, because suddenly she realized that her Magic Shoes were getting harder to move. She looked down to see the heels sinking in the damp ground, formerly covered by snow if the piles of it along the gate were any indicator.

“You okay?” Shiro asked, noticing her pause.

“Yeah, my shoes and the ground are determined to become one,” Pidge said, barely looking up at Shiro. She got her foot free and continued to walk towards the sidelines with Shiro. Only to realize that the bleachers were full of Galra Tech students, and there wasn’t a place for either of them to sit.

She and Shiro stood and watched from the sidelines, but Pidge could feel herself getting shorter and shorter beside Shiro. Looking down confirmed that her heels were sinking into the ground again.

Well. Great. Her Magic Shoes and the ground were going to become one whether she liked it or not, apparently…

She sighed and lifted her heel behind her, reaching to take off the shoe.

“Wait, no, don’t do that,” Shiro said, seeing the movement. “You’re going to get dirty.”

“Yeah, well, if I stand here, you might have to dig me out.” Pidge pointed out.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Shiro said. He stepped in front of her and crouched down. “Get on my back.”

“Shiro, no way,” Pidge said, turning a bit red. “I’m probably too heavy.”

“Pidge, I insist.” Shiro said, looking over his shoulder. “Remember, I’ve carried you before and that was fine.”

Pidge hesitated, but then put her arms around Shiro’s neck, her legs around his waist. He stood up and Pidge was able to watch the match over his shoulder.

“Thanks.” She mumbled.

“No problem.” Shiro said, giving her a smile.

They were quiet for a few seconds, then Pidge said,

“Uh, do I weigh, like, anything? At all? To you?”

“No, not really.” Shiro said with a small shrug.

“Okay.” Pidge said, not quite sure how to feel about that.

Resting her chin on her arm, she watched the game with her head beside Shiro’s. She realized then that while she had played in a Quidditch Match, she had yet to watch one.

And… Yup, she was intimidated by the Galra. 

They were fast. Their aim was hard and accurate. All of the players were six feet tall at least, the only exception being the Beater Haggar, who Pidge thought was a little scarier without the hoodie covering her face.

All the while, the captain Zarkon stood on the sidelines, broom in one hand, arms crossed, waiting to be released with the Snitch. He rarely made any sort of noise in directing his team, but glances to the sideline and small movements of Zarkon’s fingers seemed to be all that his teammates needed.

“Wow, okay, they’re good. I can see what the big deal is about Galra Tech now.” She said.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “But we’re better.”

Pidge thought that statement was driven by sheer optimism rather than fact.

The game was over much faster than Pidge thought it would be.

Galra Tech was already heavily leading the scoreboard, despite the efforts from the other team. The Snitch had only been released for five minutes before the referee blew the whistle, ending the game as Zarkon held the Snitch over his head triumphantly, face blank as the stands went wild.

“Oh, dang.” Pidge breathed.

“Galra Tech matches rarely last a half hour,” Shiro said with a sigh. “There’s only a few teams that have managed to go closer to an hour.”

“Are we one of them?” Pidge asked hesitantly. Shiro grinned.

“Yeah, we are.” He said.

“Shirogane.” Sendak said as he passed by. He smirked. “What a… pleasant… surprise. We weren’t expecting your presence to grace our games.”

“Only returning the favor.” Shiro said. “All’s fair in love, war, and Quidditch.”

“And you brought your new little Chaser, did you?” Haggar said, smirking some at Pidge, who suddenly felt much colder. “How sweet. Such a cute little thing.”

Haggar then looked at Pidge’s shoes and her smirk grew.

“How sad that neither of you had anything better to do tonight than to come watch us play. Such a shame. Little Miss Altea here is all dressed up with no place to go. You know, little lion cub, you could do much better.”

Pidge felt her face heat, realizing that Haggar had figured out what Shiro had yet to: that Pidge had thought that this would be a date.

“Perhaps,” Haggar continued, putting her broom over her shoulder. “You can find that at Galra. You’d make a nice addition here. Oh, all the things you could do here, simply with the power of your imagination… Though it appears you can get quite creative at Altea, with all your hopeful aspirations.”

“Yes, such as being able to actually make it to Regionals.” Sendak said with a snicker.

“Sendak! Haggar!” Zarkon called from across the field, scowling slightly.

The two players went towards their captain without another word.

“You okay?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “Uh, you can probably set me down now.”

Shiro carefully crouched down so she could get off of him. She smoothed out her skirt and said,

“First Keith, now me. Why do they want us at Galra Tech so bad?”

“They keep trying with Keith. Well, at least Lotor does. They tried to pull the same stunt with Hunk and Allura last spring, and then Shay, Lance, and Matt in the fall.” Shiro explained as they walked towards his car. “Because even Zarkon can admit we have talent. And he’d like to have it all for himself.”

“Have they ever tried to recruit you?” Pidge asked as she waited for Shiro to unlock the car.

“No, but Zarkon personally hates me and the feeling is mutual so I don’t care.” Shiro said. They got into the car and as Shiro cranked the engine, he said, “So, what are you in the mood for?”

“Huh?” Pidge said.

“For dinner. I didn’t eat before, and I wasn’t sure if you had. Besides, I owe you dinner for coming out with me tonight. And Haggar was right about one thing,” He said, backing out of the parking space.

“What’s that?” Pidge asked.

“You are dressed too nicely to not have somewhere just as nice to go.” Shiro said, giving her a smile before he turned his attention to getting off campus.

Pidge was glad that it was dark now, and Shiro couldn’t see how red her face was.


	18. Shiro

“Well, what’s in the area?” Pidge asked.

“The usual fast food places, but I’m pretty sure there’s a Red Robin’s, and a Chili’s and…” Shiro paused, then said, “Pidge, do you like Asian food?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said.

“Then do you mind if I surprise you?” Shiro asked.

“It can’t be that much of a surprise if you just asked if I like Asian food,” Pidge pointed out.

“Yes, it can,” Shiro argued, pulling into a turn lane. “Because I can guarantee you’ll never guess where I’m taking you in a thousand years.”

Fifteen minutes later, Pidge tilted her head as her hands went to undo her seatbelt.

“Okay, yep, I couldn’t have guessed this.” She said. “I’m surprised. So what is this place?”

“The White Crane,” Shiro said, grinning. “The only other place in a twenty mile radius where you can find authentic Japanese food.”

“Only other?” Pidge questioned as they got out of the car.

“Other than my mother’s kitchen,” Shiro said as he held open the door to the restaurant. Pidge took a deep breath as she walked inside, eyes widening.

“Wow…” She breathed.

“Please leave your shoes by the door, and I will take you to your table,” The hostess said from behind the front desk. Shiro and Pidge quickly took off their shoes, putting them in a small cubby, then followed the waitress across the tatami mat floor to a traditional Japanese low table surrounded with _zaisu_ —chairs without legs. A thick red and white patterned blanket covered the _zaisu_ , poking out from underneath the tabletop.

“Oh, a _kotatsu_!” Pidge said, then quickly looked at Shiro, saying, “Did I pronounce that right?”

“Yep, you sure did.” Shiro said as they sat down. The hostess gave them some menus and said that she’d bring out a pot of tea and glasses of water for them in a few moments.

“I’ve never sat at a _kotatsu_ before,” Pidge said, smoothing the thick blanket over her legs. “Oh man it’s so warm…”

“ _Kotatsus_ are my favorite part of the winter,” Shiro said. “And it was the hardest part about moving out. Landlord won’t let me and Keith get our own; after explaining what it was and how it works, he just said it sounded like a fire hazard.”

“You should have dragged him here so he could experience how good this is,” Pidge said, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Suddenly, her eyes widened. “What if I spill something on it while eating?”

“Don’t worry.” Shiro said. He gently lifted the table top for Pidge to see, then set it down. “Nakamura-San, the owner of this restaurant, has plenty of replacement futon covers. They’re pretty easy to clean.” He picked up his menu. “So, what are you interested in?”

“What do you usually get?” Pidge asked, picking up her own menu.

“Usually some combination of sushi, _kushiyaki_ , and _udon_ noodles.” Shiro said.

Pidge’s eyes quickly scanned the menu.

“ _Kushiyaki_ …” She mumbled. “Oh, here it is! Deep fried skewers of meat and vegetables…”

“And then you dip them into a sauce,” Shiro said. “It’s really good.”

“Do you eat it at home a lot?” Pidge asked.

“Not really. Haha—my mom—only makes it for special occasions. But in the winter, we eat a lot of _nabemono_.”

“Nabe—What?” Pidge said, brow furrowing, looking up over her menu.

“ _Nabemono_ ,” Shiro repeated. “It’s a meal made in one pot at the table. It’s really good, and fun. Everyone gets to add something. We’ll have to get the team together and do it one night.”

“That sounds fun. Did you used to eat it at the _kotatsu_?” Pidge asked.

“Yes, but often because Haha couldn’t get us to leave it.” Shiro said, grinning with the memory. “Chichi—my dad—would have to literally pull the plug to get us to leave. In the winter, whichever one of us got home first—me, my sister Mitsu, my brother Shinji, or Keith—would plug in the heater. We spent hours together there, doing homework or playing board games or really just enjoying the warmth.”

“I can’t blame you,” Pidge said, pulling the blanket a bit closer again. “I would never leave this.”

The waitress appeared carrying a tray of tea, cups, and glasses of water. When she asked if they were ready to order, Shiro realized something.

“I’m sorry,” He told Pidge. “I started rambling and you probably didn’t get a chance to figure out what to eat.”

“It’s okay,” Pidge assured him. “I think I know. Um, can I have teriyaki chicken? With a side of _gyoza_?”

“Sure,” The waitress said. “What kind of vegetable would you like with your teriyaki?”

“Peas, please.” Pidge said with a determined nod.

Shiro gave his order and the waitress took their menus, leaving them alone with the warmth of the _kotatsu_ and the hot tea.

“So,” Pidge said, pouring herself a cup of tea. “You said before that you and Keith have been living together in your apartment for a year now, but you just kind of indicated that you two have been living together for much longer than that. What’s up with that?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Shiro said with a shrug.

“I’m comfortable.” Pidge said, holding up her cup of tea for emphasis. Shiro smiled.

“Alright then, I’ll tell you. For me, the story begins back in Japan. My younger siblings and myself were born in Tokyo. My father was a medical researcher and professor at one of the medical schools in Tokyo, and when I was about six years old, he was offered a position at an American research center. So we moved here. At first, the only living space Chichi could find right away was an apartment building, which happened to be the same one Keith and his mom, Sunny, lived in, but we didn’t meet at the building. 

“We met in a grocery store on the same block. Sunny and Keith were shopping at the same time we were trying to. Haha speaks very little English, and I spoke just a little bit more so I tried to translate between Haha and an employee. Sunny figured out that the employee was trying to cheat us and stepped in. She later told us that the same employee had tried to pull the same stunt with her, thinking that she didn’t speak English. That’s how we learned the hard way that we were some of the very few Asians in the area.

“Despite the language barriers, my family quickly became friends with Keith and his mom. Sunny was raising Keith by herself as a grad student with no help from her family whatsoever. Apparently her parents disowned her when she was pregnant, and things had been rough between them before that. And since we had no family here in the US, we were sort of in the same situation of lacking a support system. So we looked out for each other. My mom would watch Keith after school while Sunny was at her classes, and later on at work, and Sunny would help us work on our English skills. It even came to the point that when my parents and Sunny needed to put down emergency contacts for us kids, Sunny put down my parents and my parents listed Sunny as another contact.”

“So, when Sunny died, your parents just became Keith’s guardians?” Pidge asked.

Shiro shook his head.

“We all wish it had been that easy… Despite my parents being listed as emergency contacts, Sunny never actually filled out anything that said guardianship of Keith could go to my parents. And even if she had, social services wasn’t too keen on having recent immigrants on temporary work visas having custody of an American child. Technically, custody should have gone to Keith’s grandparents, but they refused to take him in. So he ended up in foster care for a while.” Shiro said. “We were allowed to visit him, but that was it, and no one was happy with that situation. So my parents decided to apply for citizenship so that they could adopt Keith, which didn’t get finalized until he was about nine years old.”

“So, Keith’s your brother, then?” Pidge said..

“Not officially,” Shiro said. “My parents ended up only being able to be Keith’s foster parents, not adopt him. Apparently, Keith’s bio-dad came forward to Sunny regarding custody right after Sunny became popular on VOLTRON. She didn’t even have him listed on Keith’s birth certificate, but he somehow managed to get a paternity test approved of by the courts. But he wasn’t actually interested in the whole ‘dad’ thing, because he dropped the application for custody after Sunny’s death.”

“So he was only interested in getting attention and causing a scandal?” Pidge said, nose scrunching. “What a jerk.”

“Agreed.” Shiro said, taking a sip of his tea. “The only reason we couldn’t adopt Keith was because he refused to sign a termination of parental rights. The social worker and the adoption attorney were concerned about how long the court battle would go on for, and since Keith hadn’t been doing well in foster care but was doing much better with us, they were both worried about what could happen to him if his bio-dad managed to win custody. So, in the end, Keith technically stayed in foster care until he turned eighteen, but he’s been a member of our family since he was five and living with us since he was nine. As far as my family is concerned, he’s my parents’ son and my brother.”

“And Keith’s bio-dad?” Pidge asked. “Did he, like, demand visitations and that sort of thing?”

“He’d show up at random once a year for about ten minutes and then leave. Since Keith turned eighteen, he hasn’t come back or made contact as far as I know.” Shiro said. “Keith’s had it pretty rough, especially in the last few years, but he’s turned out okay. Good grades, friends, has a great boyfriend, a job…”

“Quidditch.” Pidge added with a grin. Shiro also grinned.

“Who can forget Quidditch?” He said.

At that moment, the waitress arrived with their food.

After they started eating, Pidge commented,

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned what your major is. I know you’ve taken Professor Montgomery’s class, obviously, so you’re in some sort of engineering or design program.”

“I’m studying computer engineering and robotics.” Shiro said. 

Pidge’s eyes brightened.

“Robotics?” She repeated. “I love robots.”

“They’re awesome,” Shiro said. “I ultimately want to design and program computers and robots to help people who are disabled like me.”

“That’s really cool.” Pidge said. She grinned. “Maybe someday we could do a collaborative project.”

“That’d be cool,” Shiro said. “And fun.”

They spent the rest of the meal discussing robots and computers. He somehow wasn’t surprised that when Pidge said that she loved robots, she really, really loved robots and knew what she was talking about. He was amused at how her eyes got brighter and brighter, her smile getting bigger and bigger, the more they talked about various projects. He learned that she had been on the robotics team in both middle and high school and was the team captain her eighth grade year and her last two years of high school, and her teams won every competition. She was telling Shiro in-depth about the robot her team built and her last competition of high school, but when she got to the end of the story, she cut herself off and looked down, poking at a left-over grain of rice on her plate with her fork.

“Sorry,” She said. “I, uh, I tend to talk a lot about robots and stuff…”

“It’s your passion, and you’re lucky you found that passion very young.” Shiro said. “I wish I had the same passion you do for this subject. It sounds like joining the robotics team in high school would have been fun.”

She looked up, surprised.

“You only just recently got into robotics?” She said. He nodded.

“I only really figured it out during my first semester at Altea,” Shiro admitted. “You know those four required courses you’re supposed to take no matter what you study? I just took all four at once that first semester. It was actually the class I met Slav in that I figured out my major. It’s that one where you’re supposed to learn how to present your research and inventions to a large group of people. And we were supposed to design a product based off research we conducted. Slav and I ended up designing a computer mouse that could be operated by amputees without a prosthetic arm.”

“That’s really cool.” Pidge said. “How is it supposed to work?”

“Motion sensors in a compression sock-like garment, connected to the computer with a program on a USB device, based off how a wireless mouse works.” Shiro said. “We actually were able to build a working prototype.”

“Do you still have it?” Pidge asked. “I’d love to see it sometime.”

“Yeah. I use it sometimes, so it’s still functional, but now that it’s been a year, I can see areas where it can be improved on.” Shiro said.

“Excuse me, sir and miss,” The waitress said, coming up to the table. “But we are preparing to close up the restaurant for the night.”

“I didn’t realize we’ve been here so long,” Shiro admitted, pulling out his phone to see that it was five till nine. He saw Pidge begin to dig through her purse, then quickly pulled out his wallet, handing the waitress his debit card along with the bill.

“You really have to stop doing that,” Pidge said, looking up, wallet in hand. She pouted some.

“Doing what?” Shiro asked innocently, failing to not smirk some.

“Paying for everything. I can pay, too.” Pidge insisted.

“This was my treat, and technically speaking I picked the restaurant, so I should pay.”

“Yeah, but you also paid for my ticket earlier. And at The Castle before that. And you promised that you’d let me cover next time.”

“Yeah, at The Castle.” Shiro pointed out. Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Alright. At least let me cover the tip. But, next time, I pay. Got it?” Pidge said.

“Sure.” Shiro said as the waitress returned. “You ready?”

Pidge put a few dollar bills on the table, then stood up from the table.

They resumed their conversations about robots and computers all the way back to Pidge’s dorm, where Shiro walked her to the door.

“I had fun tonight, Shiro.” Pidge said as they walked towards the building.

“I’m glad,” Shiro said. “Thanks again for coming out with me tonight.”

“Well, thanks for dinner.” Pidge said.

“We should do it again,” Shiro suggested. “Or at least meet up for coffee.”

“I’d like that,” Pidge said, giving him a smile. Suddenly, she gave him a hug and released him, saying, “Again. Thanks.”

With a final wave, she ducked inside her dorm building.

Shiro smiled and retreated to his car. A few minutes later, he was unlocking his apartment door, kicking off his shoes, noticing that there was an extra pair beside the door.

Taking a step towards the living room confirmed that Lance was still there. There, and on his couch underneath Keith, Lance’s hands in Keith’s hair as they made-out on the couch as some movie played in the background.

“I’m home!” He announced loudly, making both Keith and Lance jump.

“Oh, hey, Shiro,” Keith said, not making any move to get off of Lance. His face looked a little flushed but not abashed.

“Hey, Shiro,” Lance said, waving his fingers some from where they were still entangled in Keith’s hair. He shifted some, sitting up, pulling Keith into his lap. “How was your date with Pidge?”

“It was good. But I wouldn’t necessarily call it a date.” Shiro said, planning to head towards his room. However, he stopped as he saw the red heart-shaped boxes on the coffee table. Where did those come from?

“What do you mean you wouldn’t call it a date?” Lance said, suddenly shifting Keith off his lap, which Keith made a sound of protest against. “You asked her out, didn’t you?”

“I asked her to come with me to go watch the Galra Tech team play.” Shiro said. He looked up at Lance, brow furrowing at seeing the anger in Lance’s expression. “What?”

“When you asked her,” Lance said, through what sounded like gritted teeth. “Did you tell her where you were going?”

“Um… I don’t remember exactly what was said…” Shiro said, now really confused. “Why?”

Lance let out a small growl and stood up.

“I’ll be right back,” He said to Keith, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket as he went, slamming the door to Keith and Shiro’s bedroom.

Shiro turned to Keith for explanation. Keith had his arms folded over his chest and an eyebrow arched.

“You forgot something important.” Keith said accusingly.

“What?” Shiro asked. “What did I forget?”

“Shiro, what’s today’s date?” Keith asked.

“Uh, February fourteenth?”

“Which is also known as…?”

Shiro froze, eyes widening, cheeks reddening.

Oh.

Oh he was a horrible human being.

Valentine’s Day.

No wonder everyone with a significant other had plans.

And… He had…

No wonder Pidge was dressed so nicely, she thought…

Oh. He had messed up so badly…

He put his head in his hands.

“I am an idiot.” He said with a groan.

“You said it, not me.” Was Keith’s only response as he turned off the movie.


	19. Pidge

“Pidge, I can be there in ten with ice cream. Just tell me the flavors.” Lance said over the phone. “Or just chocolate. Whatever you want.”

“Lance, there’s no way you can get here in ten minutes with a stop to get ice cream,” Pidge pointed out as she put her jewelry back in the box. She had already changed out of her clothes and into her pajamas, laying out her stuff for the next day when Lance called.

“I can bend a few traffic laws…”

“Lance, no. But, really, I’m okay.” Pidge insisted, flopping onto her bed. “You don’t need to come over. Besides, you’ve been telling me for days about how excited you were to spend the entire night with Keith.”

“Yeah, but not the whole night. Like, I wasn’t going to sleep over.” Lance said. “Let me just come over and hug you and feed you ice cream, okay?”

“Lance,” Pidge said firmly. “I am okay. Really. I had a nice time tonight. It wasn’t what I thought it was, but I still had fun. I promise. Just… Don’t give Shiro a hard time about this, okay?”

“Uh, no, he deserves a hard time.” Lance said indignantly.

“No, he doesn’t. I should have clarified and not have assumed.” Pidge said. “It’s all a big misunderstanding, but it all worked out okay. It just wasn’t a romantic date. A friend-date.”

Lance huffed some and said, “Alright. Fine. But tomorrow. You, me, and a couple of ice cream sundaes, okay?”

“Okay, don’t have to twist my arm to make me eat ice cream.” Pidge said. She frowned as she heard a text message notification coming from her phone. “Lance, can we talk more about this tomorrow? I’d like to go to bed soon. Like I said, I had a lot of fun, but now I’m really tired.”

“Okay. Get some rest, and call me back if you need to talk.” Lance told her.

“I will. And, Lance? Thanks.” Pidge said. She ended the call and brought up her texts. Her eyes widened when she saw it was from Shiro.

**I need to apologize. And explain. Can we meet at The Castle tomorrow?**

Apparently, since she hadn’t texted back yet, he sent another one:

**I’m really, really sorry about tonight.**

Pidge bit her lower lip, then message him back.

**Yes, we can meet up at The Castle. Is 9 good?**

She sent the message, then quickly added on,

**I did have fun tonight, though.**

A moment later, a reply appeared:

**9 is good. And I’m glad you had a nice night.**

She put her phone on the charger and turned out the light, laying in the dark, wondering.

What did Shiro have to explain?

*

Pidge thought she was arriving early at The Castle, but was surprised to see Shiro already in a corner, staring down at his cup of tea. She went up to the counter to place her order.

“Wow, a coffee date the morning after,” Nyma said, grinning at Pidge. “Must have gone well. He’s been here for fifteen minutes already waiting for you.”

Pidge’s stomach dropped.

“Um… It’s not exactly like that…” She said. “Um, there was… a misunderstanding. About last night.”

“About…?” Nyma asked, her brows furrowing. Then, suddenly, her eyes widened. “What happened?”

“Um, I’ll tell you later, okay?” Pidge said. Nyma nodded and started fixing Pidge’s usual.

“I’ll bring it out to you when it’s done.” Nyma said.

“That’s okay. I can wait.” Pidge said. Anything to delay this conversation with Shiro… Anything.

Nyma looked up from the syrup she was pumping into Pidge’s cup, then went over to start filling up a steaming pitcher.

“That bad, huh?” She asked. A few minutes later, Nyma handed Pidge her drink. Pidge took a deep, espresso-bean-dust-filled breath, then went over to the table.

“Hi.” She said, awkwardly as she took a seat.

“Hi.” Shiro said, giving her a small, sort of shy smile. He had bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept well.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Pidge dropped her gaze to her cup, a hand going into her pocket for a strand of beads she carried for things she knew would be stressful, such as tests and large events. She always claimed that it was for luck, but it also made for a great stim toy.

“I…” Shiro started to say. “I am really, really sorry. About all this. I didn’t…” He sighed. “I messed up. I got overly excited and fixated on something, on doing something, and I didn’t give much further attention to other details. Like the actual day and month of this event. And I didn’t give you all the information that I had. So I misled you, and that was a horrible, horrible thing to do. I am really, really sorry.”

“I won’t lie, I was kind of confused.” Pidge admitted, looking up. “But I meant what I said: I did have fun last night. I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“I enjoyed it, too, at the time, but now… Now I regret it.” Shiro admitted.

Pidge swallowed.

“Regret it?” She repeated, pulling out the strand of beads to hold it in her lap.

“No, I mean, I did like spending time with you. That was fun.” Shiro said quickly. “But, I regret it, in that I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it because I led you on in a way that was completely unintentional. And it was my stupid obsession with Quidditch that did that, so that I couldn’t even see some of the more obvious things. Like how yesterday was Valentine’s Day.”

“Wait, you actually forgot yesterday was Valentine’s Day?” Pidge said, blinking. She glanced around at the decorations of the café, thinking about all the others she had seen in practically every store in town and on campus. “How?”

“Apparently, by being Oliver Wood instead of Takashi Shirogane.” Shiro said with a sigh. “Or, I guess really Harry Potter… Yeah, there’s a reason Harry didn’t end up in Ravenclaw… He can be as oblivious as… well, me, apparently.”

“You’re not oblivious.” Pidge said. “So you got excited, that’s okay.”

“Except I’m pretty sure it led to hurting your feelings.” Shiro said. His shoulders slumped and he looked at her with an expression akin to a kicked puppy. “I hurt your feelings, didn’t I?”

Pidge bit her lower lip again and said,

“I was… a little hurt. But it’s okay. Like I said, I had fun. I don’t regret it, even if you do. I would have said yes even if I had known we were going to Galra Tech in the first place.”

Then, she squeezed her hand around the strand of beads, deciding to be brave,

“And… If you’re up for it… I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“As a real date?” Shiro asked, sounding a bit hesitant.

Pidge nodded, smiling at him.

“Yeah, like a real date.”

Shiro closed his eyes, and Pidge felt her heart sink a little lower.

It was fairly clear what his answer to that was.

He… He didn’t like her like that.

“Or, you know, as friends.” She said, quickly, blinking fast.

_I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry…_

“This is what I was afraid of…” Shiro said, opening his eyes. “I do want to be friends, Pidge. But… beyond that… I really don’t know. Look, it’s not you, or anything, so don’t think that it’s you.”

_Too late._

“It’s me. Really, it’s me, not just some cliché.” Shiro took a deep breath and said, “I don’t really date. I just don’t have any interest in it right now. I’m asexual, and I’ve known that since I was about thirteen. Which… Usually when I say that is when people stop being interested in dating me… I’m not aromantic, I’m just not sure if I’m in a good place right now to start a relationship with anyone. I’ve got a lot of my own issues to sort out, and it’s hard enough on me without bringing someone else into it. So I’m… I’m really sorry that I misled you. That last night was a date, and that I wanted a romantic relationship. But I value you as a friend, and would like to keep you as my friend. I just… Look, you’re probably never going to forgive me, and I’m okay with that. I deserve that.”

“There’s no reason to not forgive you. It was a misunderstanding.” Pidge said. “On my part as much as yours. And… And if you’re not in a position to have a relationship right now, I totally respect that. I get that. I like you, Shiro, and I want you in my life. If you want me in your life as a friend, if what you need is a friend, then I’m perfectly okay with being your friend.”

_No, you’re not._

_Shut up, brain._

“Thank you,” Shiro said. He gave her a smile that both melted and broke her heart. “Though I think as much as I want and need you as a friend, I probably don’t deserve you as a friend.”

“And let one small mistake ruin an entire friendship?” Pidge challenged, giving him a smile. “I don’t think so.”

“So, we’re good?” Shiro asked tentatively.

Pidge nodded.

“Yep. We’re good. All water under the bridge, as they say.”

Shiro visibly relaxed at that.

“I still feel like I need to make it up to you.” He said.

“You took me out to dinner last night, where I got introduced to not only my new favorite restaurant, but a _kotatsu_ , AKA the best type of furniture in the world. No, seriously, where can I find one of those in the US?” Pidge said. “I need one, stat.”

“I think your RA would disapprove.” Shiro said.

“I’d share.” Pidge said, a bit of reluctance in her voice that made Shiro laugh.

She smiled at Shiro’s laugh.

She was okay. Really. So this whole crush thing didn’t go over too well. That was okay. She was okay.

As long as she and Shiro could still be friends… She’d be okay.

At least, she was pretty sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end? Of course not! It's a slow burn after all! Really, really slow...


	20. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Summer Solstice!

Shiro could not get the last twenty-four hours out of his mind. He couldn’t focus on anything. Not his homework, not the arrangements he was supposed to be making for refs for a match next month, not any of his personal projects. Nothing.

Which was why he was lying on his couch, staring up at his ceiling, worrying.

Keith came over, standing looking down at Shiro, Captain Purr-Card in his arms.

“You need to do your job.” Keith said. Shiro’s brow furrowed, but Keith continued and Shiro realized he wasn’t talking to him. “We only got you into this apartment by claiming you’re an emotional support animal. So, support your human. Emotionally.”

With that, Keith dropped Captain Purr-Card onto Shiro’s stomach, the cat immediately starting to paw at Shiro’s torso before curling up on his chest, purring. Shiro reached up with his left hand, his right hand currently on the coffee table after an afternoon of off and on aching, and gently pet the cat.

“We’re going to talk about this.” Keith said as he started tidying up the living room. “You need to talk about this.”

“Okay, you’re right.” Shiro admitted. “I’ll talk.”

“No, you’ll talk in about five more minutes.” Keith said, looking over his shoulder at Shiro.

“Why do I have to wait five more minutes?” Shiro asked, confused.

Just then, there was a knock on the front door.

“Okay, less than five minutes.” Keith said. He went to the door as Shiro sat up, shifting Captain Purr-Card into his lap. The door opened to reveal a familiar face, carrying grocery bags.

Mitsu grinned and held up the bags.

“I brought ice cream!” She declared.

“How much do I owe you?” Keith asked, heading into the kitchen, where Shiro could hear him getting out bowls and spoons.

“Ten bucks and two of your Pixy Stixs.” Mitsu said as she started unloading the cartons onto the coffee table, carefully avoiding Shiro’s prosthetic arm. “Takashi, I’d ask for a hand but it appears you’re lacking one.”

“Hello to you to, baby sister.” Shiro said. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit and ice cream?”

“That’s the other thing Keith owes me,” Mitsu said, hopping onto the couch beside Shiro. “He just told me to get over here as soon as possible with ice cream.”

“That I did.” Keith said, entering with bowls, spoons and napkins. He set them down on the table, then started looking through the selection. “Shiro, you want cookie dough, chocolate or mint chip?”

“Cookie dough.” Shiro answered, shifting Captain Purr-Card beside him on the couch. “And to know why you called Mitsu out here. On a school night, too.”

“Ugh, don’t do that, Takashi, you sound like Haha…” Mitsu said, rolling her eyes as she opened up the mint chip, serving up some into a bowl for herself. “Now, seriously, Keith, spill.”

“Actually,” Keith said as he handed Shiro a bowl of ice cream. “That might be for Shiro to tell.”

“Oh?” Mitsu said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes. He messed up. And then he apologized for messing up. And now he’s spent the rest of the day moping, and I am pretty sure I know why, but I knew that if I actually got him to say why, he might deny it later so I wanted another witness.” Keith said, serving up his own bowl. “So, Shiro, you want to explain your epic fail or you want me to?”

Shiro obstinately stuck a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

“Fine,” Keith said, settling back in the armchair. He looked past Shiro at Mitsu. “Your dearest oldest brother went on a date last night. And didn’t know it.”

Mitsu gave a small snort of laughter.

“How’d you get tricked into that one, Taka?” Mitsu asked.

“It was… Well, it was more the other way around…” Shiro admitted.

“Shiro asked our Quidditch teammate, Pidge, to go spy on the Galra team with him. Except he didn’t exactly mention the Quidditch part of the plan beforehand.” Keith explained. “So Pidge went with him thinking it was a date.”

“In my defense, I forgot that yesterday was Valentine’s Day.” Shiro said.

“How?” Mitsu and Keith said together, both leaning over to look at him.

“You work at a grocery store. You were complaining just a month ago about having to do a reset to accommodate all the Valentine’s candy.” Mitsu said.

“How do you manage to avoid all the corporate propaganda that is shoved down your throat about the day, too?” Keith asked.

“I don’t know how I forgot, I just know that I did and I almost ruined a friendship with one of the greatest friends I have.” Shiro said, irritably stabbing at the ice-cream in the bowl on his lap. 

“Okay. So, you apologized? Explained that you forgot? How’d that go?” Mitsu asked.

“Pidge forgave me, even though she probably shouldn’t have… And we’re still friends… Though she… She suggested that we try a real romantic date… And… I told her I’m ace… And not interested in a relationship right now…” Shiro said.

“You hadn’t told her you were ace before?” Mitsu asked.

“It hadn’t come up before!” Shiro said.

“Alright, so, what’s with the moping then?” Mitsu asked. “It sounds like everything turned out okay in the end…”

Shiro frowned.

“Talking with Pidge today… She… I don’t know… I liked spending last night with her. She’s fun to talk with. She makes these great sarcastic comments. She’s really sweet, and smart, and all around amazing… And…” He said.

“And?” Keith prompted.

“And… She’s kind of… no, she’s very, incredibly… cute?” Shiro got out with some difficulty.

Keith grinned.

“Knew it.” He said. He turned to Mitsu, who was squealing and doing a happy dance on the couch beside Shiro. “You heard that too, right?”

“Yes! Takashi has a crush!” She exclaimed, grinning. She gasped and pulled out her phone. “Hang on, I’m texting Shinji… He’s going to love this…”

“Don’t bother Shinji with this.” Shiro groaned.

“Too late. Message sent.” Mitsu said. A second later, her phone rang, which she put on speaker phone. “ _Moshi moshi_ , Shinji!”

“Really, Mitsy, if you want me to call more often, you can just tell me other than sending me a text that says ‘Takashi has a crush on a cute girl!’.”

“You do need to call more often, but this is also very, very real!” Mitsu insisted. She pretended to sniffle and wipe at an invisible tear. “Shinji, Keith, our big brother is growing up!”

“Shut up.” Shiro groaned. “It’s not a crush.”

“You just admitted you think she’s cute. And that you like to spend time with her.” Keith pointed out.

“I’m ace, Keith.” Shiro said.

“I know.” Keith said.

“Ace.” Shiro repeated, firmly.

“Yep.” Mitsu said.

“Known that for quite a while now.” Shinji added.

“I am asexual.” Shiro said again.

“Oh my quiznak, Takashi, we’re not seriously doing this, are we?” Shinji groaned. “Just because you’re ace doesn’t mean you can’t like someone. You’re panromantic. You love the sappy parts of a relationship.”

“And yet he forgot Valentine’s Day.” Mitsu said. “The most romantic day of the year.”

Shinji was quiet.

“How the quiznak do you forget Valentine’s Day?” He asked.

“Not important!” Shiro said. “Look, if she liked me before, she probably doesn’t now because of what happened and because I’m ace.”

“Wait, what happened?” Shinji asked.

“Shiro asked a girl to go out with him on Valentine’s Day. Not knowing it was Valentine’s Day. And took her to watch a Quidditch Match. When she was expecting the evening to be a little more, you know, date-like.” Keith explained.

Shinji started snickering.

“Nice one, bro. Can’t be beat. You know we’re never going to let you live this down.” He said.

Shiro’s eyes narrowed and he set his empty bowl aside, picking up his cat instead.

“Well, Captain, it’s nice to know that you still love me, unlike my traitor siblings.” He said, which got a purr from the cat, who snuggled in.

“Okay, now, in all seriousness, you’re not being fair. Pidge is an awesome person.” Keith said. “If she likes you—as a friend or romantically—she won’t change that just because you’re not interested in sex. Being ace is part of who you are, and I’m pretty sure she likes all of you.”

“Yeah. _All_ of you.” Shinji said suggestively.

“Ugh, Shinji. Gross.” Mitsu groaned, wrinkling her nose.

“But what if I’m not ace?”

Keith and Mitsu both turned to Shiro, but he didn’t look at them, focusing on the cat on his chest, Captain Purr-Card’s claws clinging to his Batman t-shirt just enough to support himself so that Shiro could stroke his fur.

“Is that’s what got you like this?” Keith asked. “You’re questioning as to whether or not you’re really ace?”

“It’s part of it…” Shiro admitted. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t think about Pidge romantically before. I’ve never felt this kind of attraction to a person before. And I didn’t even realize I had this attraction until now; it kind of hit me suddenly this morning like a rogue Bludger or something. And then to top it off I’m still dealing with so much crap, between the PTSD and school and work and trying to keep the Quidditch team off the chopping block… But… today… suddenly I realized that Pidge is incredibly cute. And that I feel attracted to her. And that I really like spending time with her and she has so many amazing qualities… I just… I just don’t know.”

“You’re still ace,” Mitsu said, putting her hand on his knee. “Or, I don’t know, maybe demisexual from the sounds of it.”

“Somewhere on the asexual spectrum.” Shinji added. “Whatever it is, it’s valid. And so are you. Okay? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks for the validation, guys.” Shiro said, smiling. “Still wish I had any sort of idea as to what I’m doing, though.”

“You like Pidge. Pidge likes you, enough to suggest you two try a real romantic date.” Keith said. “So, go from there. Just ask her out. For real this time.”

Shiro shook his head sadly.

“I can’t. Not now, not yet. Not after telling her today that I’m not ready to be in a relationship. Not so soon after hurting her feelings… I can’t do that to her.” Shiro said. “I messed everything up. So even if I do like her, I think it’s too late…”

No one had a response to that, except Mitsu wrapped her arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So those who are reading my other story, The Rival, you can see that my OC Shinji isn't always a jerk. He's a much better person in the right alternate universe. (Oh, boy, Slav would have a field day right there...)


	21. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guess who has two thumbs and is done with undergrad? This girl!
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains mentions of Acephobia

“I am sorry, Pidge.” Allura said over her bowl of ice-cream. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t you start on that, too,” Pidge said with a groan.

“How can this be your fault?” Lance asked as he plucked a gummy bear off his sundae and popped it in his mouth. 

“Yeah, Allura, you had absolutely no part in this.” Hunk added as he plucked the stem off the cherry on his sundae

Allura bit her lip, hesitating.

“Wait,” Pidge said, straightening in her chair some. “Is this about those conversations you said that I needed to have with Shiro before I could ask him out?”

Allura nodded.

“I should have told you…” She said.

“No, you said you didn’t want to because you didn’t want to out Shiro.” Pidge said. “So, I think you did the right thing?”

“Wait, you didn’t know Shiro was ace until this morning?” Shay said, brow furrowing.

“Nope.” Pidge said. “So, when he asked me out… Or I thought he asked me out… Well, I guess up until this morning I figured he was bi or pan? Or gender-queer or something…”

“See, I figured that either the conversation had already happened and all was well or Shiro felt confident enough to ask Pidge out without telling her, and trusted enough to tell her later.” Nyma said, frowning slightly as she folded her ice-cream with her spoon until it had a milkshake-like consistency.

“You really think Shiro would do that after the last time?” Rolo asked.

“Wait, last time?” Pidge asked, brow furrowing. “But Shiro said he wasn’t looking for a relationship…”

Or maybe that was something he just told her to get her to back off…

“The ‘last time’ that Rolo is referring to happened last spring.” Shay said. “As long as we’ve known him, Shiro hasn’t been interested in a relationship. Well, at least, not in a relationship in the way that the other party wanted.”

“Shiro looks like some sort of Greek god or something,” Lance said, waving his spoon around a little. “Everyone wants to quiznak him.”

“Lance!” Allura hissed, gesturing over her shoulder where there were families with kids at the ice-cream parlor. Lance winced and grimaced.

“My bad.” He whispered.

“Anyways… This girl really, really wanted to get Shiro into her bed.” Rolo explained. “She spent, like, three weeks flirting with him, and when he didn’t make any moves, she did, asking him out. And… it did not go the way she expected…”

“Shiro said no?” Pidge asked.

“Worse, he said ‘yes, but…’.” Shay said. “He told her that before they went out, he wanted her to know he was ace. She got mad at him and got really nasty. Told him if he wasn’t interested, he could have just said ‘no’, he didn’t have to make up a stupid excuse or lie to her.” 

“And when he insisted that he was being honest, she got even worse, saying there being ace wasn’t even real.” Nyma added. “She even flat out told him that if being ace was real, he was broken, because everyone apparently wants and needs sex.”

“That horrible little…” Pidge cut herself off, remembering the kids nearby. She quickly scooped up a spoonful of ice cream and stuck it in her mouth, hoping that the sweetness would prevent her tongue from spewing all sorts of bitter words.

“Yeah, she was.” Hunk said, frowning. “The worst part about it was that, according to Keith, Shiro did recognize she was flirting, and told Keith that while he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready for a relationship, but he was willing to give it a try if she was.”

“That’s even worse.” Pidge said.

“Keith was pissed; he said that, up until then, Shiro was doing really great confidence-wise. It shook Shiro up for about a week, but then we won our next Quidditch match and he perked up again.” Lance said. “And apparently the only reason that Shiro said something when she asked him out was because, back in high school, Shiro only went on first dates, and only a handful at that. Never second dates. No matter who he went out with—girls or guys—they always seemed to lose interest after he mentioned he was ace.”

Pidge looked down at her ice-cream, moving around some of the crushed Reese’s with her spoon.

“Right before he told me, I… I asked him out. For either a second date or a real first one, however he wanted to look at it…” She said. “He looked really upset. Do you think he was afraid I’d do the same thing that other girl did?”

“Probably. Once bitten, twice shy.” Rolo said with a shrug. “That’s not your fault, kid. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Then, what can I do something about?” Pidge asked. “Even if he’s not interested in a relationship, I still really like him. I mean, I totally value him as a friend and respect his wishes to stay friends, but I don’t want to be this little pining nuisance following him around.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, quiznak. I haven’t been a little pining nuisance, have I?”

“None of us had any clue regarding your crush, and you’re definitely not a nuisance.” Hunk assured her. “I’m just glad that you and Shiro are still friends, and that you still want to be friends. But in the long-term… I don’t know. I don’t want you to get hurt. Or Shiro to get hurt.”

“Same,” Lance said. “But, if you ever need to talk it out, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks,” Pidge said, smiling some. “And, who knows? It’s just a crush. Crushes can fade…”

“So far, you seem to be handling it well.” Nyma commented. “At least, right now compared to this morning.”

“Yeah, well, now I’m less concerned about me, and more concerned about the team.” Pidge said. “I’m worried this is going to mess up the team dynamic. Which wouldn’t be a problem if I hadn’t joined and—”

“Oh, no, don’t think that!” Shay said. “This changes nothing about the team. Everything is going to be fine. Maybe a little awkward, but I promise, it won’t change how we play.”

“We’re in college. Drama is expected. We’re all still friends first, no matter what, though.” Lance added. “Besides, we all like having you on our team. Honestly, the only thing I regret about it is that you didn’t join us last semester.”

“Me, too.” Pidge said. “Last semester was okay, but it could have been better with friends. Which is why I’m so worried that this may have messed up everything…”

Allura reached her hand out and put it on top of Pidge’s.

“I promise you, everything is going to be fine.” She said. “We’re all still friends, we’re all still a team, and nothing is going to change that.”

Pidge relaxed at that.

Everything was going to be fine.

A while later, she was settling into bed with her laptop to scroll through some of her favorite websites before going to sleep. To her surprise, her phone rang. She quickly pulled it off the charger on her bedside table and grinned at seeing Matt’s name and picture.

“Hey, Matt!” She said upon answering.

“Hey, little sis.” Matt said cheerfully. “Sorry I’m calling late. But I realized I didn’t call you earlier to get all the details about this mystery date of yours.”

Pidge had—apparently for the best—decided not to tell Matt she was going out with Shiro, saying that she wanted to see what happened on the date before she told Matt more. And even then, she only told him because she turned down his invitation to go over to his dorm to play video games. The only information Matt had managed to weasel out of her was that it was a guy and someone who went to Altea.

“Oh, well, it went okay. But it’s… It’s not going to lead to anything. We both agreed on it.” Pidge said.

“Sorry to hear that,” Matt said, sounding genuinely disappointed. “You sounded so excited about it…”

“Yeah, well. We’re still going to be friends. That’s the important thing.” Pidge said.

“Yeah. That and that you had a good time.” Matt said. “So what’d you do?”

“Oh, we just went out for dinner…” Pidge said. What Matt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him…

“Where’d you go?”

“This cool Japanese restaurant called _The White Crane_.” Pidge said.

“Wow, dang. At least he’s got great taste.” Matt said, sounding impressed. “Shiro and Keith love that place.”

“I can see why, the food was so good and the restaurant was so pretty.” Pidge said. “We talked about our projects and what we want to do with our degrees… It was great.”

“Hey, you should invite him to come watch the Quidditch match on Saturday. We’d all love to meet him.” Matt said.

Pidge hesitated. She couldn’t just say that the entire team had already met him… And that he’d be playing…

“Uh, I’m not sure… I think he has plans that day.” Pidge said.

“Some other time, then.” Matt said. “Huh. That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Pidge asked.

“I was just checking my school mail while we were chatting. I’ve got something from a Galra Tech email address.” He said.

“That is weird.” Pidge said. “How the heck did one of the Galra get it?”

“It’s listed as one of my contacts on Facebook.” Matt explained. “And I’m a member of the state Quidditch Facebook group, along with all the Galra team. ”

Pidge suddenly felt very uneasy.

“Alright, but who is it and what do they want?” She asked.

“Haggar. The subject line says ‘Something you should see’…” Matt said. “She’s done that before, trying to lure me over to the Galra side. Sends me all sorts of articles about the Galra Tech astrophysics program…”

Suddenly, he was very quiet.

Pidge could hear her heartbeat.

“Katie.” He said, voice blank. “Where did you really go last night?”

“The… _The White Crane_?” Pidge said nervously. “Why?”

“Then why am I looking at a picture of you at a Galra Tech Quidditch game? And… Wait. That’s Shiro. You went out last night. With Shiro.”

“Well, um, okay, yes.” Pidge said. “Yes. Shiro was my date last night.”

“And the idiot took you to a Galra Quidditch game and thought it was a good idea for a first date?” Matt demanded irritably.

“Well, uh, it was a little complicated.” Pidge admitted. “But it’s fine, everything sort of worked out, and we did go out to dinner and—”

“How the quiznak did it get a little complicated?” Matt demanded. “Wait. Wait a second… I invited Shiro to come over and play video games with me last night since neither of us are dating anyone.”

“Right, you asked me to do the same.” Pidge said.

“Except you said you were going on a date.” Matt said. “And Shiro… Shiro said that he was going to go watch the Galra Tech team play… And he asked me to go, too… Katie, did Shiro not know that this was a date?”

Pidge was quiet, trying to figure out what to say.

“Okay, don’t get mad…” She started to say.

“Too late for that.” Matt said bitterly.

“No, it’s fine, look, everything’s fine, I had fun, we’re just going to be friends, it’s all good and—” Pidge said.

“No, Katie, it’s not ‘all good’. You were excited. Not just because someone asked you out, but because you like Shiro, don’t you?” Matt said.

“No, well, yes, but, Matt…” Pidge said.

“Good night, Katie.” Matt said briskly.

And then there was silence as Matt hung up.

Pidge sat on her bed with wide-eyes then frantically scrolled through her contacts. She was on her feet pacing as it rang.

“Pidge?” Lance said. “What’s up, _chica_?”

“Lance, remember how you said things might be a little awkward tomorrow night at practice?” Pidge said, biting her lip.

“Yeah?” Lance said.

“It just got a lot awkward.” Pidge said. She took a deep breath and said, “Matt knows.”

“Matt knows what?”

“What happened. I didn’t tell him, Haggar sent him this picture of me and Shiro at the match, and he figured it out, and… And, uh, he’s not happy about it.”

Lance was quiet.

Then, he gave a horrified whisper.

“Oh. Quiznak.”

*

Pidge bit her lip, twisting her broom in her hands, dreading the arrival of her older brother to Quidditch practice, occasionally glancing over at Shiro. They had both been cordial to each other upon arrival and made small talk while put together the hoops and got out the balls. Admittedly, she was glad for Keith’s presence, even if all he did was sit on the bench and scroll through his phone. Then Lance, Hunk and Shay arrived together, and that was when the tension started, because the three of them were well aware that Matt was not happy. Allura arrived shortly after, adding to the tension and awkwardness as the five of them knew something that Shiro and Keith did not.

But when Matt arrived, it was like nothing was wrong. He greeted everyone casually, even Shiro, though to Pidge the jovial punch to the upper arm that Matt gave Shiro seemed a little rougher than was usual amongst the team. Still, Pidge and the others relaxed with small sighs of relief.

But then, after that, Matt was quiet. Too quiet. Eerily quiet. And Pidge knew from experience that Matt being quiet was never a good thing.

“Matt,” Pidge said in a hiss, grabbing her brother by the sleeve of his sweatshirt as they walked over to get water during a break. “What are you planning?”

Matt just simply smiled at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, my dear, precious, one and only sister whom I would do anything for, including murdering, maiming, or otherwise seriously injuring anyone who ever hurt you.” He said.

Pidge frowned.

“Leave Shiro alone.” She said.

“I haven’t done anything to Shiro.” Matt protested.

“Yet.” Pidge said. “And I mean it. Don’t say anything to Shiro. Or strap him to a rocket destined for Mars or something.”

Matt scoffed then went over to the bench, resuming his bitter silence.

Pidge continued to watch her brother, becoming less tense when Matt seemed to be less tense. Maybe, just maybe, he had cooled down a bit. Rethinking things.

Maybe she had totally overestimated her brother. Or underestimated him. She wasn’t entirely sure.

And then Shiro made the mistake of suggesting that the Chasers take practice shots on the Keeper. The Keeper being Shiro.

Everything started out well, the three Chasers taking shots, either misses or sailing through the hoops.

And then all hell sort of broke loose.

Matt held the Quaffle in his hand, twisting it some. And then, he grinned. The ball flew out of his hand…

And collided with Shiro’s right upper arm.

Pidge felt her eyes widen as Shiro stumbled backwards some, looking confused but not exactly hurt. She looked at Matt, who only shrugged and said,

“Oops. I missed.”

Pidge felt her blood run cold; Matt was too accurate of a shot for that to have been off-aim. Which meant he was aiming for Shiro in the first place.

Pidge wasn’t the only one who had figured that out. The fire in Keith’s eyes as he threw down his own broomstick and marched over, lips curling into a snarl as he grabbed Matt by the front of his shirt.

“You did that on purpose!” Keith growled as Lance and Hunk tried to pry Keith off of Matt.

“It was an accident.” Matt said flatly.

“No, you aimed at Shiro on purpose.” Keith argued, trying to shrug off his boyfriend and teammate.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Matt said.

Pidge stepped in front of Keith before he could punch Matt in the face.

“Matt, we need to talk. Now.” Pidge hissed at him. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, only grabbed his wrist and dragged him off, leaving tense and awkward silence behind them. Pidge pulled him behind a groundskeepers shed and turned to face her brother, folding her arms over her chest, absolutely livid.

“That was uncalled for and you owe Shiro an apology.” She said, trying her best to evoke her mother’s lecturing tone of voice and body language.

“I don’t—” Matt started to say.

“Cut the crap, Matt. I know you did it on purpose. Keith knew you did it on purpose. Everyone who saw you pull that stupid stunt knew it was on purpose.” Pidge snapped. “What Shiro did to me—accidentally misleading me—was not on purpose. Your actions were.”

“Yeah, well, he hurt you. So it’s my duty as your brother to—” Matt started to say.

“No! It’s not!” Pidge yelled, uncrossing her arms to have her fists at her sides. “Shiro has owned up to his mistake and apologized! And I forgave him! And I know I had a part to play in this, too! I own up to my part of this mess! And you know what? We were both doing okay without you getting involved! This is my life, Matt, and I’m the one stuck living it and getting myself out of messes! I love you, and you know that, but you can’t bail me out of everything! You can’t go all vigilante older brother anytime my feelings get hurt or I cause a problem! You’re not Batman and I’m not Gotham City, okay?”

She hadn’t meant for tears to start falling, and she watched as Matt’s face turned from anger to surprise to horror at the series of emotions and words she was saying. He reached out for her.

“Katie…” He mumbled.

“No!” Pidge screeched, slapping away his hand, ignoring how hurt he looked. “Shiro is my friend, maybe one of my best friends! Maybe I wanted to be something more, and I can’t have that, but I just want him to be my friend, and to be his friend! And you… You have been his friend much longer, but you didn’t show that tonight! You tried to hurt him! That was so cruel, something I never, ever thought you could actually be to someone you call a friend! I watched you aim to hit him, and hit him on the arm he doesn’t have! I love you, Matt, but right now my respect for you just dropped! If you want it back, you’ll go apologize to Shiro, now!”

She was gasping for breath and wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands, trying not to sob.

Matt lowered his head, looking at the ground.

“You’re right,” He whispered. “I’m sorry, Katie. I’ll apologize to Shiro. You’re right, it was mean and uncalled for.” He glanced up at her. “But, can you answer something for me?”

Pidge sniffled and nodded, wiping at her face with her sleeves.

“You said you wanted something more with Shiro.” He said. “Did you have a crush on him before he sort of asked you out?”

Pidge hesitated and nodded.

“And… What about now?” Matt asked. “Do you still want that something more?”

Pidge sniffled again.

“I don’t know,” She whispered.

This time, when Matt reached out to embrace her, she threw herself in his arms, crying some into his shoulder.

Why did crushes have to be so complicated?


	22. Shiro

“Um…” Shiro said as he watched Pidge drag Matt away from the field. “What just happened?”

“The, uh, short version?” Lance said, releasing Keith now that Matt was a safe distance away from the angry fireball that was Keith. “Um, Matt kinda, sorta… Found out. About the other night.”

“And, uh, sort of went into Over Protective Brother mode…” Hunk added.

“Oh.” Was the only thing Shiro could say, resisting the urge to rub his upper arm. It didn’t hurt necessarily, but the hit with the Quaffle had increased the ache there.

“Look, we were actively working to avoid this and just deal with some awkward silences tonight.” Lance said. “And, well, Haggar apparently decided to intervene.”

“Haggar told Matt?” Allura said. “You didn’t mention that part, Lance.”

“Wow, the Galra are really trying to screw us up.” Shay said. She was quiet and shifted and said, “Um, is there anything else we can talk about to diffuse the tension?”

“About how much of a quiznaker Matt is.” Keith growled, arms folded over his chest.

“Keith, no, that’s not going to help.” Lance said.

“You don’t know that, Lance!” Keith snapped. “It’s helping me just fine!”

About that time, a sheepish looking Matt was returning. Alone, Shiro noted with concern. Where was Pidge? Was she alright?

Matt looked even more guilty and awkward as he approached Shiro, absently scratching at the back of his neck and said,

“Um, I owe you an apology. I overstepped boundaries and was a quiznaker.”

“Yeah, you were!” Keith yelled.

“Keith, babe, how about we go clean up the equipment…” Lance said, dragging his boyfriend away, though Keith glared daggers over his shoulder. Shiro was glad that the phrase “glaring daggers” wasn’t literal at that moment. Keith had a very nice collection of sharp, pointy objects, and Shiro couldn’t always guarantee that the entire collection stayed in Keith’s top dresser drawer.

“I, um, I’m really sorry.” Matt said to Shiro. “It was a real jerk move and I shouldn’t have done it. Katie told me you two worked out everything between you two like the adults you are—apparently you’re both more adult-ish than I am—and that there were no hard feelings left except for mine. I had no right to get angry, or take my anger out on you. So, I’m sorry.”

“No, you did have a right to get angry.” Shiro said. “If someone misled one of my siblings like I did to your sister, I’d get mad, too.”

“Yeah, but you probably wouldn’t try to intentionally harm that person. You’d just be angry. I got angry and used actions to express it when I shouldn’t have.” Matt said. “So, yeah, sorry. Are you okay?”

“All good, I promise.” Shiro assured him. “And that includes accepting your apology.”

Matt nodded in thanks, though still looked a bit ashamed.

“Is Pidge okay?” Shiro asked, still worried by the lack of her presence.

“Yeah, but she was really angry with me. She’s an angry crier, too, and she gets embarrassed by it. So she went on back to her dorm, instead of letting everyone see that she had been crying.” He paused, then glanced around to see if any of the team was nearby, but everyone had made themselves scarce for Shiro and Matt to talk privately. Matt took a deep breath and said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah.” Shiro said, though a bit warily as Matt looked at him over the rims of his large coke-bottle glasses.

“Would you have actually asked Katie out on a date? If you liked her as more than a friend?” He asked.

Shiro hesitated then said,

“Maybe. I don’t know. Right now I like her as a friend. And if I liked her as something more… Well, I screwed that up a bit, didn’t I? Besides, I don’t think she likes me like that.”

Matt was quiet for a moment, studying him. Shifting from one foot to the other, Shiro added,

“Look. I promise I will never hurt Pidge like that again. I know I messed up, and I probably don’t deserve her forgiveness. Her feelings are all I care about right now. Er, I mean, in a totally platonic way.”

“And what if she doesn’t want it in a platonic way?” Matt asked. “What if she doesn’t _need_ it in a platonic way?”

Yeah, right, like there was any chance of that happening. Really, who would want some amputee, asexual, Quidditch-obsessed nerd like him? Let alone need that kind of person as a romantic partner…

“Then I’m not the person who can give her what she needs.” Shiro said.

Matt frowned, but said nothing.

*

Shiro decided to stop into The Castle the following morning. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and he had forgotten to pick up a new box of tea for the apartment, so The Castle was his only hope for any sort of caffeinating before class.

And he wasn’t even slightly bothered to see Slav behind the counter.

“Good morning, Shiro!” Slav said brightly, then frowned. “The probabilities of you having slept a full eight hours are very slim…”

“Yep…” Shiro said. “One large blackberry tea to go, please.”

Slav nodded and rang it up. To Shiro’s surprise, Slav then began prepping a cup himself, putting in the tea bag. Shiro’s eyes widened, wondering what alternate reality he woke up in, when Slav began to fill the cup with hot water.

“Uh, Slav?” Shiro said cautiously, not wanting to startle his friend. “What are you doing?”

“Preparing your drink.” Slav said.

“Yeah, but what about the probabilities that you burn yourself horribly or drown?” Shiro asked.

“It is part of a new experiment that involves testing probabilities for alternate realities.” Slav explained. “If the Slav of this reality does something with high probabilities of disaster, will the probabilities decrease or increase for Slavs in alternate realities?”

“Alright, so, uh, how are the Slavs of other realities doing with hot water right now?” Shiro asked. “Are their chances of survival looking better?”

“All except in one. But the fire-breathing dragon counteracts any instances of injury or death by water in that reality.” Slav explained, setting the cup of tea in front of Shiro.

“Well, fire-breathing dragons are always hard to account for.” Shiro said as he handed some cash to Slav.

“Very true,” Slav said. “Speaking of accounts, I have not yet had confirmation of my probabilities for Tuesday night. Was your date with Pidge a successful evening of spouse searching for both of you?”

Shiro felt his heart sink a little.

“Oh, uh. You haven’t heard that bit of news yet, then…” Shiro said.

Slav looked away from the computer, ignoring the cash drawer popping out, frowning.

“But my probabilities assured me that everything would have gone well. Do you know the probabilities of that happening?” Slav asked.

“Yeah, well, um, I don’t think your probabilities accounted for human error.” Shiro said. “I… I messed up.”

“No, no, I accounted for human error.” Slav said, fishing out Shiro’s change. “The odds of the car breaking down, food poisoning, you ripping your pants, and—”

“Well, you didn’t calculate the odds of me not realizing I had asked Pidge out on a date until after I got home that night.” Shiro said.

Slav paused and looked up at Shiro, even more concerned.

“Shiro,” He said seriously. “That is impossible. You asked Pidge to go out with you on an day known as the romantic holiday of St. Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, well, I, um… I kind of forgot. That Tuesday was Valentine’s Day.” Shiro admitted, shifting awkwardly.

Slav blinked. He reached up and pushed his glasses back before saying,

“Shiro. Do you know the odds of living in a country that not only celebrates the romantic holiday known as St. Valentine’s Day, but advertises that holiday almost excessively, and yet still forgetting what holiday occurs on February fourteenth?”

“…No.”

“Oh.” Slav said. There was a pause, then he said, “Would you like to?”

“No…” Shiro said flatly.

“Very well.” Slav said, handing Shiro his change. “Er, is Pidge aware that this date was not, in fact, a date?”

“Yeah, she knows. We talked about it; we’re friends and stuff.” Shiro said.

“Then why do you sound so distressed?” Slav asked.

“Because I’m an idiot.” Shiro explained.

“Your acceptance into Altea says otherwise. Observant, on the other hand…” Slav said.

“No, I’m an idiot because I messed up. With Pidge and her feelings and me with my own.” Shiro said.

“Well, now, I wouldn’t say that.” Slav argued. “The probabilities are still in your favor. They always have been.”

Shiro scoffed at that. The aching stump of his right arm was enough to prove that Slav was wrong, with additional evidence staring him in the face every time he looked in the mirror.

“No offense, Slav, but I really doubt that.” Shiro said. “Thanks for the tea. I’ll see you later.”

“See you at the game tomorrow!” Slav called behind Shiro as he headed for the door. “And this time, I will make sure not to help the opposing team!”

“Thank you, Slav.” Shiro called back.

At least Quidditch always made sense. Who needed feelings anyway, when there was Quidditch?

*

“And why, exactly, is the captain of the best Quidditch team in the whole wide world panicking over one match that he knows he and his team are going to totally dominate?”

Shiro stopped pacing and looked over to see Mitsu standing there, grinning, her hands on her hips.

“Force of habit.” He said. Mitsu dashed over and quickly hugged him.

“You worry too much, Takashi. That’s why your hair is already white.” She told him, leading him over to where Keith was alternately being affectionately hugged and chastised by Okaa-San as their father watched, amused.

“ _You’re so skinny, Keith-Chan. Why are you always so skinny? Are you eating enough? No, clearly not._ ” Okaa-San was saying in Japanese.

“ _Okaa-San, I’ve gained about three pounds since Christmas break, and probably gained twice that many during the break…_ ” Keith griped, rolling his eyes. Keith’s Japanese was a bit rougher and he wasn’t as fluent in the language, but he could keep up a conversation with the native speakers.

“ _What’s that in kilograms?_ ” Okaa-San asked. She affectionately gave Keith’s side a poke. “ _It’s not enough… Takashi, don’t you feed him? He’s a growing boy, you know._ ”

“ _Okaa-San, if you saw what he eats all the time and how much of it, you’d be asking how it is possible he’s still this skinny._ ” Shiro retorted as he also got embraced by his mother, who then proceeded to stand on her toes to pull him down to kiss his forehead.

Shiro heard his father chuckle and then got pulled into another hug.

“ _Your mother is just trying to get her sons to come over and eat a meal or three at home._ ” He explained, ruffling Shiro’s hair.

“ _And I would love for you to bring Lance with you._ ” Okaa-San said to Keith.

“ _Okaa-San, you just like interrogating my boyfriend,_ ” Keith groaned.

“ _I don’t interrogate,_ ” Okaa-San said defensively. “ _I make sure that he’s good enough for my son. And I happen to like Lance a lot. He’s a good boy, and makes you happy._ ”

“Um, Shiro?”

Shiro turned to see Pidge approach, broom in hand.

“Hey, Pidge.” Shiro said. “Pidge, I’d like you to meet my parents, Homare and Katsu Shirogane, and my younger sister, Mitsu.”

“Hi!” Pidge said, giving them all smiles. “It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you all from Shiro and Keith.”

“So you’re Pidge? We’ve heard quite a bit about you, as well.” Mitsu said grinning mischievously before she switched to Japanese, saying to Shiro, “ _You were right, Takashi, she is cute. Adorable, even. Ask her out already, idiot. For real, this time._ ”

Keith gave a small snort of laughter and Shiro tried to hide the fact that his cheeks were turning red.

“Everything alright, Pidge?” Shiro asked the confused younger player.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just that the Olkari team is here, and I figured you would want to speak with the captain before the game like last time, so I came over to let you know they arrived.” Pidge said.

“We should probably get into the stands,” Mitsu said, taking her mother’s arm, the middle-aged woman asking her daughter a dozen questions in Japanese while also intently studying Pidge. “We can talk more after the game. Good luck!”

Shiro groaned internally, knowing he was going to be subjected to his mother’s interrogation later and continuously asked about Pidge from here on out. His parents had been very accepting when he came out as ace, but the few disastrous dates he had been on were enough to make Okaa-San worry about his romantic life and future happiness. He tried hard to not make her worry; he’d done enough of that over the last few years…

Shiro greeted the Olkari captain, Lubos, and his co-captain, Ryner. He preferred to talk with the tall, skinny woman to the younger man, to be perfectly honest. Ryner was an innovative Chaser and an overall nice person, but Shiro couldn’t help but feel a connection to Ryner. She, like him, was not considered a traditional student, as neither of them had started college straight out of high school. Ryner was a third-year student, but was older than the rest of the team, in her thirties. Though incredibly smart, Ryner hadn’t been able to afford college when she was younger, and was an unwed single mother by her twentieth birthday. She had gotten an Associate’s degree at a community college and worked full-time to support herself and her young daughter. After getting her degree, she married and had another child, with her husband being supportive of her desire to get a Bachelor’s degree and become an engineer. After saving up some, Ryner was able to start at Olkari University back in the fall, and started playing Quidditch around the same time after having interest in it for a while. 

Ryner smiled as she waved to her fifteen year old daughter and seven year old son in the stands with her husband, all decked out in Olkari colors.

“Future Quidditch stars in the making,” Shiro commented.

“Yes,” Ryner said with a smile. “Lynn is already so excited at the idea of playing Quidditch at college. She’s already started looking at colleges based on their teams in addition to the programs she wishes to pursue. And Carl and I are working with the recreation council of our county to start a kids’ league.”

“That’s amazing,” Shiro said. “I wish you luck with that. Sounds like you’re going to be really busy, though.”

“I like creating new things. It is why I am studying engineering.” Ryner said. “I like seeing projects blossom, no matter how much work that means. If you have to work hard on something, that makes it a worthwhile endeavor, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Shiro said. He wished the two captains luck, then went over to his team to discuss strategy for the game.

“Um, Shiro, we’ve got company again…” Hunk said, interrupting Shiro mid-diagram. The team looked over to see a particularly gleeful Galra team join the stands.

“Ugh,” Allura said, frowning. “Haggar purposefully tries to stir up drama on our team, and they all come expecting to watch us fall apart.”

“We won’t give them the satisfaction,” Shiro said, frowning. “We’re better. A better team in more than just skill.”

“Right!” Matt said.

A few minutes later, the match had begun.

Shiro liked his vantage point as Keeper, being able to see his teammates and where they were. He especially liked seeing his strategies play out perfectly, resulting in Altea’s first goal of the game.

“Good job, Matt!” Shiro called out as Matt shook hands with Lubos, the Olkari Keeper.

Everything was going great. Altea was up, the Snitch had just been released, Slav hadn’t invaded the field yet.

And then it happened. The moment Shiro felt his heart stop.

Allura had the Quaffle, Pidge running along opposite her, calling for a pass.

An Olkari Beater, trying to stop the pass, threw the Bludger at Pidge.

The Bludger collided with her shoulder, and then—with a cry of surprise—Pidge tripped, hitting the ground hard.

Shiro was running even as the whistle was blowing. Matt and Allura got to Pidge first, helping her sit up and checking her over for injuries. Shiro threw down his broom as he knelt beside Pidge, heart pounding as he looked at her mud and grass covered face and her scraped up knees.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Pidge nodded, grabbing the hem of her jersey to wipe at her face, but it seemed to just smear the mud more.

She gave her worried teammates a smile.

“I’m okay,” She said. “I can still play. I just tripped over my own feet. I’m good.”

Shiro felt himself sigh with relief as Matt pulled his sister to her feet. He stood up and gently gave Pidge a pat on the shoulder she hadn’t been hit on.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He told her, though he wasn’t quite sure why he wanted her to know that. He quickly added, “Let me know if you’re not, if you need water or a band-aid or anything.”

“I will.” Pidge said, nodding. She gave him another smile, this one bigger than the first. Shiro though his heart was going to burst, it was pounding so fast… “Thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro nodded, grabbing his broom and heading back to his hoops.

As he did so, he realized something about himself.

He loved Pidge’s smile. And he wanted to do anything and everything he could to protect that smile.

With the sound of the whistle blowing and the game restarting echoing in his ears, he realized that he had fallen in love with Pidge.


	23. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks until Season 3!

Lance lifted up his cup of soda and declared,

“I propose a toast! To us! For being one more win closer to Regionals!”

The entire table cheered, everyone raising their cups.

“We came, we kicked butt, we were awesome!” Hunk said.

Pidge grinned as she stuffed another fry in her mouth. They had defeated the Olkari team on Saturday, and now they had had their first away game against Unilu, which was also a victory. They had stopped for a post-game dinner and victory celebration on their way back to campus.

Pidge saw Shiro stand up out of the corner of her eye, walking over to the condiments and drink station. She grabbed her nearly empty cup and followed him over. He was focusing hard on getting more ketchup into the little cup that he apparently hadn’t heard her behind him until she said,

“Hey, Shiro!”

Shiro jumped, getting ketchup all over his hand as he turned to her.

“Oh, hey, Pidge!” He said, smiling at her, voice a bit off as he grabbed napkins to wipe off the ketchup. Was it just her imagination, or was his face a little pink? She felt bad for scaring him, and accidentally embarrassing him in the process. “What’s up?”

“Just getting some more lemonade,” Pidge said, putting her cup under the soda fountain. “Um, I just realized, though, I never got a chance to apologize to you. About what happened last practice with Matt.”

“Oh,” Shiro said. “You don’t have to apologize for something someone else did, you know.”

“Yeah, but he did it because of this stupid ‘must protect little sister’ thing of his and therefore it’s kind of my fault,” Pidge said, putting the lid back on her cup. “But it was awesome to see how mad Haggar got when we beat Olkari, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, it was.” Shiro said, nodding.

Pidge took a sip of her lemonade, then said,

“Hey, Shiro? I’ve got an idea. For team bonding.”

“Team bonding?” Shiro repeated, looking confused.

“Yeah.” Pidge said with a nod. “You know, get us all stronger and closer together. That would help us a lot on the field as well as friends.”

The truth was, she was still worried about things being awkward between everyone over the whole Date-That-Wasn’t-A-Date debacle. She wanted to make sure everyone saw that she and Shiro were still good friends, and nothing had changed. A night out together was perfect.

“Okay, so, my dad mentioned that there was this pub that holds trivia night the last Friday night of the month, so it’s two days from now. Even those of us under twenty-one would be able to get in and play, though we’d all be carded and stuff. It sounds like it could be really fun and a good opportunity to hang out.” Pidge said. “What do you think?”

“I like the sound of it,” Shiro said, giving her a smile. “Let’s see what the others think.”

Pidge proposed the idea when they got back to the table.

“Wait, are you talking about The Five Lions?” Matt said. “The pub Mom and Dad met at?”

“The very one,” Pidge said.

“Your folks met at a pub?” Hunk said.

“Yeah, well, they met at the pub’s trivia night during their junior year at Altea. They were on opposing teams and Mom was the leader of her team and kept getting all the right answers, so during a break between rounds, Dad’s team nominated him to go and try and flirt with her and knock her off her game.” Pidge said. She smirked. “It didn’t work.”

“Mom wasn’t affected, but she flirted right back at him and that apparently turned him into a mess.” Matt said with a laugh. “Mom’s team won, but Dad managed to work up the courage to ask her to be on a team with him the next time. Three months of trivia later, he finally got the guts to actually ask her on a date.”

Allura suddenly gasped as she looked at her phone screen.

“We have to go!” She said, grinning as she looked up.

“We do?” Keith said, brow furrowing.

Allura nodded and turned her phone around.

“The theme for this month’s trivia night is _Harry Potter_!”

And, just like that, everyone was in.

*

“I need to see your IDs,” The man at the door said, holding out his hand. “If you’re under twenty-one, I’ve got to put a mark on your hand.”

Everyone did so, the only ones to not get their hands marked with a black X being Allura, Matt, Rolo and Nyma as they were all over the age of twenty-one.

The man smiled and said,

“Let me guess, you’re here for the trivia.”

“Is it that obvious?” Pidge said, grinning as she pretended to look down at her Ravenclaw t-shirt. The entire team had decided to come decked in their House colors. Pidge, Matt and Slav represented Ravenclaw, while Shiro, Hunk and Shay wore Hufflepuff yellow and black; Lance and Keith wore Gryffindor’s scarlet and Allura, Rolo and Nyma were decked out in Slytherin green.

“Well, we’ve got a special going on Potter themed cocktails. Everything on the menu has a mocktail version.” He explained. “Trivia starts in half an hour. Go ahead and get some drinks, claim a table and start thinking of a team name.”

The team entered, finding that they weren’t the only ones ready to play while representing their Houses.

“This one, the Gryffindor Red Lion, has edible glitter!” Lance said excitedly as he looked over the menu, which listed the ingredients. “I’m all about glitter!”

“That sounds good, but so does this Phoenix one,” Keith said. He frowned then said, “Screw it, it’s virgin, I’m getting both.”

“Yeah?” Lance said. “Then I’ll order both, too.”

“I want to try this Patronus one,” Matt said, pointing to a blue drink on the menu.

“Slytherin Snakebite,” Allura said, grinning. “I’m getting that for sure.”

“Oooh!” Shay squealed, pointing. “Hunk, let’s get the Amortentia Potion!”

“I would love to drink love potion with you,” Hunk said, leaning over to gently press his forehead and nose to Shay’s, making her giggle.

“Ugh, can you two, like, turn down your sappy adorkableness for, like, one minute?” Nyma groaned. Her eyes suddenly glittered. “I’m getting the Unicorn’s Blood.”

“You know, babe,” Rolo said, playfully nudging his girlfriend in the ribs. “You drink Unicorn’s Blood and you get a cursed half-life.”

“Yeah, it’s called a hang-over.” Nyma pointed out. “And what exactly are you thinking about trying?”

“Well, Dragon Blood, on the other hand is proven to be useful. Or at least has twelve uses.” Rolo said. “And I think we’re about to find one more.”

“What are you thinking about getting, Pidge?” Shiro asked, looking over Pidge’s shoulder at the menu.

“Can’t go wrong with Butterbeer, right?” Pidge said. “But the Felix Felicis also sounds good.”

“How about I order one, you order the other, and we each take a sip to see what they both taste like.” Shiro suggested.

A little part of Pidge’s brain screamed in the very back of her head.

_He’s suggesting an indirect kiss!_

_What Shoujo anime did you crawl out of?_

“Sounds good!” Pidge said.

“What about you, Slav?” Matt asked.

“The Luna Lovegood sounds delightful,” Slav said. “Have I ever mentioned that Luna is my favorite character?”

“Really?” Pidge said, with a bit of surprise. Then she thought for a second and nodded. “Yeah, I think you two would get along great, actually. What’s in the drink?”

“It is a blueberry lemonade with pink sprinkles along the rim, much like the salt on the Slytherin Snakebite Allura is admiring.” Slav said.

“Ooh, sounds good.” Shay said.

Drinks and food were ordered, and team names were being discussed.

“Can it be a pun?” Pidge asked hopefully.

“Ooh, yes!” Hunk said. “Uh… ‘Hot Belgian Quaffles’?”

“Hunk. What the quiznak?” Allura said flatly.

“Sorry, I can’t stop thinking about how tomorrow is waffle day at the cafeteria… I’ve been craving those for a while…” Hunk admitted.

“The Quizengamot.” Shiro suggested.

“Boo you, Horcrux.” Lance threw out.

“I’ve got ninety-nine problems, but Snitch ain’t one!” Pidge said.

“I am a Snitch and I approve that team name,” Rolo said.

“Are you quiznaking kidding me?” Matt groaned suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Shay asked.

“Look who just walked in the door.” Matt said, frowning.

They all turned towards the door and frowned, watching the Galra Quidditch team get reluctantly ID’d and their underage members marked. Pidge was surprised to see Haggar reluctantly get her hand marked, remembering how she had arrived at the Altean party with liquor in her bag.

“Of quiznaking course they’re here…” Nyma grumbled.

“Well, then,” Shiro said, voice even. “Let’s give them a taste of what they’re going to experience on the Quidditch Pitch.”

“I don’t think the owners want me and Hunk to throw things at them.” Keith said.

“That’s not… Keith, how did you—? Never mind,” Shiro said with a sigh. “Let’s just win this thing?”

The drinks and food arrived and they had gotten their index cards and pens ready, waiting for the emcee to officially begin the night.

“Welcome, Potterheads, to the Five Lions Pub!” The guy with the microphone said. “Now let’s get Trivia Night started!”

He went over the rules, which included phones being put away during the three rounds, and how the points system worked.

“Alright, first question of the first round!” The emcee said. “What is Ginny Weasley’s full name?”

“Ginerva, right?” Matt said as the music started.

“Yes, but he said full name, so does that include the middle name too?” Pidge asked as Allura—who had the nicest penmanship—wrote down the answer on the card.

“I understand that middle names are a standard western cultural tradition, but they seem somewhat extraneous.” Slav said.

“No, they serve a purpose. It’s how we know we’re in trouble.” Lance said.

“Come on, guys, we need to focus, what’s Ginny’s middle name?” Allura said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Molly?” Shay said.

“Ginerva Molly Weasley,” Shiro said. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Allura wrote it down as the music stopped and the emcee announced the next question: “How much does a hot chocolate cost when you ride the Knight Bus?”

“Fifteen Sickles!” Pidge said as soon as the music started.

“How do you know that?” Rolo asked. “That is, like, the most random _Harry Potter_ fact to memorize.”

“I’ve read _Prisoner of Azkaban_ about a dozen times,” Pidge said. “I could practically recite it from memory. ‘Chapter One: Owl Post. Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, he really wanted to do his homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night. And he also happened to be a wizard’. ”

“Whoa.” Nyma said, clearly impressed.

“Katie’s got a photographic memory that helps with that.” Matt said, slinging an arm around Pidge’s shoulder.

“Why _Prisoner of Azkaban_?” Keith asked. “Or can you do that with all of the books?”

“I can, but I’ve read _Azkaban_ so much because its where the series really starts to get dark, with the Dementors and stuff.” Pidge said. “So when real life Dementors start to get me down, I go to that book for reminders on how Patronuses work and stuff. It’s a reminder that even in dark times, there is still happiness and joy that the darkness can’t conquer. You just can’t let the darkness consume you. Also, it advocates chocolate as a form of self-medication. That’s a big plus.”

Her brows furrowed at the looks she was getting, a mixture of surprise and concern.

“What?” She said, now worried that she had said something wrong.

“That was… Well, it was kind of deep.” Hunk said. “It was just a bit unexpected.”

“ ‘Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light’.” Shiro said.

“That’s my favorite movie-only quote,” Pidge said, smiling.

“Mine, too.” Shiro said, giving her a small smile.

The team went on to win the first round by a single point. The second round was a little closer, and the Alteans were one point shy of winning the round. When the emcee announced a ten minute break between rounds, Pidge stood up from the table.

“I’m going to the bathroom, be right back.” She said.

When she came out of the stall, she froze when she saw Haggar in front of the mirror, reapplying her black lipstick.

“I don’t bite.” Haggar said, looking at Pidge’s reflection in the mirror at seeing the younger girl’s hesitation.

Pidge stepped forward to wash her hands, keeping her head down.

“Your name’s Katie, right?” Haggar said.

“Yes, but I go by Pidge.” Pidge explained.

“What kind of name is Pidge?” Haggar asked.

“What kind of name is Haggar?” Pidge retorted, lifting her head.

“It’s better than the one my parents gave me. Helen.” Haggar practically spat out the name. She gestured at herself. “Do I look like a Helen to you?”

“Well, if the name change is part of the Goth phase, you could have just added an extra ‘L’ to Helen.” Pidge pointed out. “You’d get ‘hell’ in there.”

“Not good enough; no one hearing it or speaking it would recognize the difference. Believe me, I tried. And it’s not a phase, it’s a lifestyle.”

“Right, gotcha.” Pidge said, nodding.

Haggar hopped up onto the counter, sitting between the sinks and right beside where Pidge was standing.

“So, Pidge, did he ever figure it out?” She asked.

“Did who ever—” Pidge cut herself off and frowned, turning off the faucet. “You’re talking about Shiro. Yes. He did.”

“And?” Haggar prompted.

“And what?”

“Are you two together, then?”

“Oh. Uh, no. No, we’re not. We’re just friends.”

Haggar scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“You deserve better. He’s just a pretty face. And I guess other parts of him are considered attractive. Never really put too much thought into it. Point is, you could do so much better.”

Pidge frowned.

“Let me guess,” She said evenly. “At Galra Tech?”

Haggar was quiet for a moment, then said,

“You know, I was once like you. My parents are Altean legacies, too. My first semester was at Altea. But at Galra, my horizons and opportunities expanded. I found Altea too restricting. But at Galra, the opportunities are endless. Just imagine what you can do, and with Galra’s funds to make your dreams a reality.”

“Atlea may not have worked for you, but it does for me,” Pidge said. “I’m happy at Altea.”

Haggar put her boots down on the floor again, towering over Pidge with a condescending smile.

“Are you, though?” She asked softly. “Even being ‘just friends’ with Shirogane?”

Pidge was quiet. Haggar smiled, and patted Pidge’s cheek.

“Think about it, Katie.” She said. With that, she left the room.

Pidge stood alone in the quiet for a moment, then sighed, heading back to the table.

“We ordered you another Butterbeer.” Matt told her as she took her seat.

“Thanks,” Pidge said, grabbing the plastic tankard and took a sip of the concoction. The sugar settled her somewhat.

“Pidge?”

“Hmm?” Pidge mumbled, wiping whipped cream off her lips with the back of her hand.

“You okay?” Shiro asked in a low voice. “You getting overwhelmed?”

“I’m good,” Pidge said. “Thanks.”

Was she happy being ‘just friends’ with Shiro?

Well, she was going to have to be. 

After all, there was no way Shiro would like her back.


	24. Shiro

Shiro groaned as he heard his alarm go off on Sunday morning. He opened his eyes reluctantly, reaching out for his phone. Across the room, Keith—lying face down on his bed—had pulled his pillow over his head to block out the noise.

“Sorry,” Shiro grumbled, pulling himself into a seated position, wincing slightly as his joints protested. He sat on the edge of his bed, willing himself to wake up.

He had worked late last night, doing another store reset, and this was after traveling an hour away for a Quidditch match.

Anyone else would turn off the alarm, say quiznak it, and roll over to go back to sleep.

Shiro, however, was not anyone else.

Routine was part of the recovery plan he had made with the doctors and therapist. He liked routine. He found that having a set time to do a set task was motivating. Getting through the unpleasant parts of the routine made the better parts all the more pleasant.

Usually, his early morning work-outs weren’t unpleasant. He loved them. Hitting the gym when there weren’t many people there, the music in his ears matching the rhythm of his pumping blood. But with a cloudy head and achy body, it currently was the last thing he wanted to do.

But Shiro was also pretty stubborn. He was going to do it anyway.

That’s how he ended up at the Altea University gym, still wishing he had hit snooze.

He especially wished that after seeing the note on the door.

**NOTICE: AIR CONDITIONING IS BROKEN; REPAIRMAN COMING THIS WEEK. –CORAN**

Shiro took a deep breath and pushed the door open anyway.

Well. Looks like he had the gym all to himself.

He had just started on push-ups when the door opened.

“Hi, Shiro!” Pidge said.

“Morning, Pidge.” Shiro said, looking up before going back to his warm-ups.

“I almost walked away, then I saw you were in here,” Pidge admitted as she started stretching. “What’s up with all of the heating and AC on campus going haywire?”

“I have no idea,” Shiro admitted. “You’d think they’d get one of those smart engineers to fix it or something.”

“That’s one way to earn extra credit,” Pidge said. “Maybe I should see if Hunk can fix the AC unit in my dorm room. It’s always freezing in there…”

“Hence all your blankets,” Shiro said with a nod. “Have you told your RA?”

“I’ve been trying to get it fixed since October.” Pidge explained. Shiro winced.

“Ouch,” He said, both at Pidge’s predicament and the sudden tightness in his upper right bicep.

Pidge and Shiro both finished their stretches, and Pidge went over to the smaller sets of weights. Shiro took up the leg press, trying to spare his arm any more pain.

_Gotta get in leg day…_ He thought as he put on the weights.

He absentmindedly started using the press, his eyes drifting around the room, not quite ready to put in music yet. His eyes drifted towards Pidge, experimenting with doing squats while also curling the weights. 

His eyes started to drop down her back then he immediately shook his head, focusing on his own feet, face heated.

_No, bad brain, bad hormones. No. Naughty._

He decided that now was the best time to put in his headphones.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far into his workout.

The music wasn’t keeping up with the tempo of his beating heart. Instead, it was the accompaniment to his pounding head.

He felt lightheaded and warm…

_I’m not hydrated enough,_ He realized, stopping the use of the press. He saw his water bottle a few feet away. _I just need to get a drink…_

He remembered putting his feet on the mat.

He did not remember the rest of him following.

He did, however, remember the sound of Pidge shrieking his name and her worried face hovering over him.

“What?” He mumbled, confused, sitting up.

“Here, drink some water.” Pidge said, shoving a bottle of water at him. He had it his mouth before he even realized that it wasn’t his black bottle, but her green one.

_An indirect kiss…_

_Where the heck did_ that _come from?_

“Are you okay?” Pidge asked after Shiro drank some water. He nodded.

“Yeah, I think I just got overheated…” Shiro said. He was sweating even though he hadn’t been working out long. It was unbearably hot in the room…

Pidge stood up, holding out her hands towards him.

“Think you can get up?”

“Pidge, I’ll just pull you down…”

“Try,” Pidge said, wiggling her fingers some. Shiro sighed but reached out and grabbed her hands, allowing her to help him to his feet. She ushered him out of the room and into the cooler hallway. Instantly, Shiro felt the difference.

“Are you sick?” Pidge asked with concern as she sat him down on a bench. “Do I need to call someone?”

“No, I’m fine,” Shiro insisted. “I just got a little too hot…” He frowned as he looked down at his attire, which included a long-sleeve shirt and a gray **IF YOU CAN READ THIS, MY INVISIBILITY CLOAK ISN’T WORKING** t-shirt. Then there was the black glove that covered his prosthetic, both protecting it and keeping it out of sight. “Granted, the layers I’m wearing probably aren’t helping.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Pidge said. They were both quiet for a moment, then Pidge said, “Do you always wear long sleeves?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said.

“To hide your prosthetic?” Pidge asked cautiously.

Shiro nodded. “I don’t like people staring at it.”

“Come warmer weather, people will be staring at you, wondering why the quiznak you’re wearing long sleeves in summer.” Pidge pointed out. “Not to mention the one glove thing. Really Elsa like, by the way.”

“If you tell me to ‘let it go’, I am walking out of here right now.” Shiro said, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’d let you if I wasn’t worried about you falling flat on your face.” Pidge challenged.

“Fair enough,” Shiro admitted.

“So,” Pidge said, bringing her feet up onto the bench to sit butterfly style. “Why don’t you like people to see your arm?”

“It’s just.. It’s awkward.” Shiro admitted. “People stare. And they pity me, because I only have one arm. Then they ask all sorts of questions about how I lost it and then I usually get a bunch of unwanted help and extra attention and… And I just need some space, I guess. Hiding it helps give me that.”

Pidge nodded in understanding.

He studied her for a moment, wondering what she was hiding behind the name Pidge. Matt called her Katie all the time and she never seemed bothered by it. So why the nickname?

“What about you?” He asked. “Why Pidge?”

Pidge bit her lip, then said, “Pidge is my Dad’s nickname for me. But I… I started using it here at Altea. Because it’s not a girl’s name.”

“Can I ask why that’s important?” Shiro asked. “You use female pronouns, right?”

Pidge sighed. “My Mom is one of the best in her field. She’s renowned as an expert.” She explained. “But she’s sometimes has problems being taken seriously. Because she’s a woman, with a feminine name. Everything gets scrutinized differently when it’s a woman in a professional field, STEM or not. Prejudice and social stigmas and all that. So, I thought I wouldn’t have that problem if I just published stuff and was known to my professors and in the professional world by an androgynous name, I could actually be taken seriously despite my pronouns. That I’d actually be recognized and respected from the beginning.”

“Well. That sucks.” Shiro said, frowning. “Your name, your gender, has nothing to do with what’s in your brain. It shouldn’t matter to anyone.”

“In a perfect world, that happens,” Pidge said, leaning her elbows on her knees. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a perfect world.”

Shiro looked down at his hands, thinking.

“Pidge, obviously it’s your choice as to how you want people to you as. But you should also own who you are, and make people respect you for who you are.” He said. “Because I know this amazing, talented, wicked smart young woman and the whole world needs to acknowledge her and her brain, and not just her sex.”

“Yeah? So how do I go about doing that?” Pidge asked.

“You show the world how smart you are, all the fantastic things in your brain. You continue to carve a path for other little girls, to make their journey better and easier.” Shiro said. “And I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What’s that?”

Shiro tugged off his glove, Pidge’s eyes widening slightly as he held up his silver palm.

“When you publish something under your real name, I’ll stop wearing the glove and long sleeves. In the spring and summer, at least.” Shiro amended quickly. “Because I’ll own who I am, too, right along with you. What do you say, Katie Holt? Do we have a deal”

Pidge smiled and held out her hand for him to shake.

“You’ve got a deal, Takashi Shirogane.”

Shiro brought his metal hand to Pidge’s flesh one, giving it a small shake.

This was worth not going back to sleep.


	25. Pidge

Pidge was studying on a Thursday night when suddenly her laptop pinged. She frowned at the invitation to a new group-chat, but saw that the host of the chat was Lance. She accepted and went to chat, which was titled “Surprise Party Planning Extravaganza!”. She felt better knowing that she wasn’t the only one wondering what was going on.

**Hunky-Dory: Who are we planning a party for?**

**Merman_Walking: Our illustrious captain! Who totally did not tell us that his birthday is this week!**

**PrincessAllura: Shiro’s birthday is this week? What day?**

****Shay-the-Bae: How did you find this out, Lance?** **

****

**Merman_Walking: Keith told me, obviously.**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: Well, technically, his birthday isn’t this week. But it also is.**

****

**Hunky-Dory: ????**

****

**Nerd-is-the-Word: ????**

****

**The_Pigeon: ????**

****

**Rebel-without-a-Cause: How does that work?**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: Shiro’s birthday is Feb 29. Last year was his real birthday, but by the state of Virginia’s standards, he turned 21 yesterday morning.**

****

**PrincessAllura: Aw! Shiro’s a Leap Year Baby!**

****

**1912122: Ah! Shiro was born on a Leap Day! Do you know the odds of that happening?**

****

**Pirate_Babe: Perhaps some other time, Slav. What exactly did you have in mind, Lance?**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: Now seems like a great time to remind everyone that Shiro has PTSD and this surprise party thing could go really south really fast?**

****

**Merman_Walking: The only real surprise part of this party would be getting a cake. And booze.**

****

**Nerd-is-the-Word: So irresponsible, Lance, bringing booze to a five year old’s birthday party…**

****

**Merman_Walking: Well, technically, I’m not. That’s a task for you, Allura, Rolo and Nyma, for obvious reasons. The rest of us can provide the cake and food.**

****

**Rebel-without-a-Cause: Is this going to be a big party or a small one? And where?**

****

**PrincessAllura: A small one is probably going to be easier for Shiro to accept.**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: We can probably convince him to hold a small gathering at our apartment after the game on Saturday.**

****

**Hunky-Dory: So, for food… Pizza? We should do something pretty easy but filling if there’s going to be alcohol consumed.**

****

Pidge sat back and thought for a moment. A memory flashed into her head, of something Shiro had said back on their not-date. 

****

_“_ Nabemono. _It’s a meal made in one pot at the table. It’s really good, and fun. Everyone gets to add something. We’ll have to get the team together and do it one night.”_

****

She put her fingers to her keyboard. 

****

**The_Pigeon: Hey, Keith. Question.**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: ?**

****

**The_Pigeon: How hard would it be to do a one-pot meal? Nabemono? I think I spelled that right?**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: Not too hard, and you spelled it right. Why?**

****

**The_Pigeon: Should we do that instead of pizza? It’d be a little heavier of a meal, especially for those who want to drink that night. Plus, Shiro’s mentioned to me once that he’d like to get the team together one night to do it as a meal.**

****

**Stabby-McStabber: That’s a great idea! Shiro loves nabemono, and he’s mentioned that to me before too. I’ll suggest it as a nearly-the-end-of-winter thing.**

****

**Rebel-without-a-Cause: Great thinking, Pigeon!**

****

**Merman_Walking: That’s perfect!**

****

**1912122: These ideas combined will make for a 96.7% success rate for a surprise party. Which is a rarity for surprise parties in every reality.**

****

Pidge felt a surge of pride go through her at the written responses, as well as the little dings that indicated that the others were hitting the thumbs-up icon underneath her post. She was happy that everyone liked her suggestion. And even happier that they thought that Shiro would, too. 

****

She just hoped that Slavs’ probabilities were spot-on. 

****

* 

****

Keith responded to the group chat later, saying that Shiro was on board, though a bit suspicious that Keith offered to do the organizing of the event. Lists were compiled of ingredients for both the dinner and the cake Hunk was going to make, as well as the alcohol that was to be purchased. 

****

Saturday came quickly, and winning their match against Taujeer College put everyone in a good, celebratory mood. Which was especially good, because Shiro was still oblivious to the night’s plans. 

****

Pidge helped Keith and Lance with the shopping after their post-match lunch and showers. The trio arrived at the apartment right after Allura, Matt, Rolo and Nyma showed up with a case of beer, two bottles of wine, and a few miscellaneous hard ciders and sodas. 

****

**“What’s all this?” Shiro asked as the haul was spread out on the counters, his eyes lingering on the alcohol with a raised eyebrow.**

********

“Not in a dorm, so not a wild dorm party,” Matt said as he put ice in a cooler for the beers. “Just a few drinks and a good meal with friends.” 

********

"As an added bonus,” Nyma said, pulling out a jar labeled ‘KEYS’ from her purse. “All vehicle keys will go in here, and be put into the trusted, saintly and sober hands of Shay and Slav.” 

********

“And Pidge,” Pidge added, petting Captain Purr-Card on the head where the cat lounged contently in Slav’s arms. “I’m not interested in drinking anything but water and the non-alcoholic sodas.” 

********

“That’s cool,” Rolo said, popping open a beer can. “More for the rest of us.” 

********

“Keys, babe,” Nyma said, holding out the jar. Rolo obligingly put his car keys in the jar before taking a drink. 

********

“How far along are Hunk and Shay?” Allura asked as she filled up a pitcher of ice water. 

********

“Hunk said they’d get here in about fifteen when he texted last,” Lance said as he and Matt started chopping vegetables and slicing meat. 

********

“Great, the broth should be ready by then,” Keith said as he started mixing ingredients in a large clay pot. “And we can probably get the first bowl started.” 

********

“What can I do to help?” Pidge asked. 

********

“Can you set the table?” Keith asked. 

********

Pidge nodded, grabbing a stack of napkins, plastic spoons, and take-out chopsticks before heading into the living room, where Keith and Lance had pushed aside the furniture earlier that afternoon to set up card tables and chairs that Lance had borrowed from his parents. 

********

She had just finished setting out the first napkin set when Shiro started following behind her, putting Styrofoam bowls at each place. 

********

“This looks like it’s going to be a great meal,” Pidge said, for lack of a better conversation starter. 

********

“Great meal, even better company,” Shiro commented. 

********

“So how does it work, exactly?” Pidge asked. “Keith said something about first bowl? What does that mean?” 

********

“Okay, so, the first thing you have to do when making _nabemono_ is get the broth to simmer. Then you add in your ingredients. Your veggies, your noodles, your meat. Let those cook, then serve it up. That’s the first bowl. But, before you start eating, you add more ingredients to let those cook while you eat. That’s the second bowl, the second serving.” Shiro explained. 

********

“Oh, okay, so you just keep adding stuff until everyone has their fill,” Pidge said. “That makes sense. So you just dump everything in at once?”

********

“Not really. You have to add in the stuff that cooks longest first then keep adding ingredients that have faster cooking times. It’s kind of a balance and timing thing,” Shiro said. “But that’s honestly one of my favorite parts about _nabemono_. Every bowl, every meal, is unique because you balance out different flavors and different textures of the ingredients, and everyone gets to play a part in making the meal.” 

********

Pidge grinned up at Shiro. “You must really love _nabemono_ if you’re waxing poetics about it.” 

********

Shiro returned the grin, saying, “Give me a moment and I’ll come up with a haiku. Hmm… _Broth heats the soul, noodles feed the mind,_ nabemono _is awesome_. How’s that?” 

********

“I think you’re missing a syllable or two,” Pidge said. 

********

“Coming through,” Lance said, making Pidge jump away from Shiro, wondering when and how they had gotten so close together physically. Lance put a cookie sheet on the table, then the burner, with Keith following behind with the clay pot full of broth. Pidge and Shiro finished setting the table as Lance turned on the burner and Matt, Allura and Nyma started bring over the meat and veggies, Rolo trailing behind with bowls of noodles. Slav yelled from the kitchen that he and Captain Purr-Card were fine and not to worry about them. 

********

The assembled party settled around the table with drinks, waiting for the broth to simmer and the arrival of Hunk and Shay. The former happened first, so ingredients started getting added. They were adding in some of the faster-cooking ingredients when there was a knock on the door. 

********

“I’ve got it.” Shiro said as he stood up. Everyone else, however, exchanged grins and quietly followed, watching as Shiro opened the door. “I didn’t know you were bringing something.” 

********

“Yep, we’ve got a cake, and it’s decorated,” Hunk said, entering the apartment carrying a cake box. “Wanna see?” 

********

“Sure.” Shiro said. Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge saw Lance pull out his phone, ready to capture Shiro’s reaction. 

********

Hunk sat the box down on the kitchen counter and opened the lid, and Pidge was glad to hear the shutter of Lance’s camera phone, because the look on Shiro’s face was priceless. 

********

“Surprise!” The whole room chorused as Shiro stared dumbfound at the cake that said **HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHIRO!**

********

Shiro looked up at last and zeroed in on Keith. “I should have known you were up to something.” 

********

“Hey, the idea for the party was Lance’s, the _nabemono_ was Pidge’s, and the rest of us simply facilitated and aided in the process.” Keith said, smirking slightly. 

********

Shiro grinned. “Thanks, guys. Really.” 

********

“Alright, let’s officially get this party started,” Matt said. 

********

The rest of the evening was one of the best Pidge had ever had, even better than just a week before when they had dominated at trivia night. There was a great meal, Hunk’s cake was probably the best she had ever tasted, and her friends were awesome. But more importantly, she had a lot of fun watching her friends and brother get drunk and had the pleasure of being one of the only three people sober in the room to enjoy it. 

********

After cake, Matt had teasingly goaded “Lawful Good Shiro” into having more than one alcoholic beverage. 

********

“You’re legal now, Shay’s got your keys in a jar, and you’re in your own apartment,” Matt pointed out. “There’s nothing holding you back from getting wasted.” 

********

“My dignity,” Shiro argued. But he took another drink anyway. 

********

Nyma, who apparently got very giggly when she drank, suddenly turned to Lance. “Hey, Lance, remember how we met?” 

********

“Nyma, you handcuffed me to a tree. I still don’t know where you got the handcuffs or why you had them.” Lance said, frowning before he took another sip of his beer. His face soured momentarily and he added, “Actually, I think I know why you had them… Never mind…" 

********

“You handcuffed Lance to a tree and I wasn’t there to see it?” Keith exclaimed. 

********

Nyma giggled, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol. “We met at this party the first week of freshman semester,” She explained, giggling. “And Lance is plastered. Totally wasted. And he comes up to me and says—” She somehow dropped into a straight-face and deepened her voice as she said, “—‘Are you Google? Because I’ve just found what I’ve been searching for’.” Her straight-face broke and she burst out laughing. 

********

“And let me guess, you told him you had a boyfriend and he didn’t take the hint.” Shiro said, smirking. 

********

“I was drunk!” Lance groaned. 

********

“Yeah, but you’re a persissy—persisant— _persistent_ drunk,” Nyma said, needing three tries to get the word out correctly. “So I handcuffed you to a tree to get you to leave me alone. ‘Cept Rolo here—” She affectionately shoved her smirking boyfriend. “Comes up and then you know what Lance does? He uses the exact same pick-up line! On Rolo! Started flirting right there, handcuffed to the tree!” 

********

Allura laughed. 

********

“Better than the one he used with me,” She said. She also dropped her voice. “ ‘If you were ground coffee, you’d be espresso because you’re _fine_ ’!” 

********

Hunk suddenly gasped dramatically and he reached over, shaking Lance’s shoulder. “You didn’t do one for Pidge! You did a pick-up-line for every one of us when we met, but not Pidge!” 

********

“’Cause I’m not stupid…” Lance slurred out. “Not doing that in front of my boyfriend, and not usin’ a pick-up line on Matt’s sister in front o’ him… They both know how to throw balls. And I wanna protect mine…” 

********

“Do one for Pidge now,” Shay suggested, who seemed to be enjoying being sober just as much as Pidge. “Just for fun.” 

********

Lance turned to look at Pidge, who was struggling not to giggle at Lance’s drunk-serious expression as he thought for a moment. Then… “If you were a booger, I’d pick you first.” 

********

Pidge laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. 

********

“That’s one of the most flattering things I’ve ever been told,” She said, wiping tears from her eyes. 

********

Somehow from there, it turned into a fun game of “who can tell the cheesiest pick-up line?” 

********

“Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious!” Hunk said. 

********

“Are you the square root of negative one? Because you cannot be real in any reality. Well except for that one reality where there is a eighty-four point three chance of there being a square root of negative one…” Slav said. 

********

“Are you a non-volatile particle? Because you raise my boiling point.” Matt threw out. 

********

When it came to be Keith’s turn, he frowned and said, “Are you cheese? Because you look… gouda?” 

********

Everyone at the table—drunk and sober—lost it with that one, everyone laughing so hard. Pidge looked over just as Keith’s lower lip stuck out and his eyes began to water and he said, “You said cheesy…” 

********

“So cheesy, baby, so cheesy…” Lance said, kissing Keith’s cheek with a loud smack. Keith’s near-tears did a complete one-eighty, and he had a smile so bright that it looked like it belonged on the face of a kid at Disneyland. 

********

And that was the beginning of how Pidge learned that Keith was a mood-swing drunk. She found him on his knees, sobbing over a plastic knife that had been knocked off the table, then as soon as she got him off the floor, he started telling her rather exuberantly about his own knife collection. 

********

Lance would kiss anyone and flirt with anyone while drunk. She had to admit it was fun watching Lance lie on his back on the floor while asking Captain Purr-Card, “Are you from space? Because your body is out of this world…”. 

********

Allura was loud and talkative, while Rolo was really laid back and philosophical, but neither of them could walk in a straight line to save their life. Matt was the one who had to be kept on a short leash, because he kept saying that he was “gonna do science”; Slav fortunately took over guarding drunk Matt, but Pidge was also a bit concerned that Slav might see a slight probability of Matt’s ‘science’ working and try to put it into action. Hunk was a sad, teary drunk who just wanted to hug his girlfriend and bury his face in her shoulder all night, and Shay was glad to oblige. 

********

Around midnight, Pidge had also discovered that the same tactic that worked on her cranky baby cousins at Thanksgiving also worked on drunk college students. That is, put in a Disney movie and next thing you know you’ve got a sing-a-long party gathered around the television. The only difference is that, with drunk college students, most of them ended up passed-out about halfway through the film. Well, apparently so did the sober ones, as exhibited by the sleeping Shay and Slav. 

********

While Rapunzel was singing about having a dream, Pidge felt a finger poke her cheek. Confused, she turned to see Shiro, sitting beside her with wide eyes and red cheeks. 

********

“You have freckles…” He breathed, face filled with awe. 

********

Pidge chuckled. “Yeah, I have freckles. Always have.” 

********

“Wow…” Shiro said. Then he started poking her face again. 

********

Pidge giggled. “Shiro, what are you doing?” 

********

“Poking your freckles.” 

********

“Why?" 

********

“I wanna see if they give you superpowers…” 

********

Pidge had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, which was hard because the expression on Shiro’s face as he poked her was adorable. When she thought it was safe, she asked, “What kind of superpowers?” 

********

“I dunno…” Shiro said. “Good ones.” 

********

“As opposed to evil superpowers?” 

********

“Good superpowers.” Shiro reiterated. 

********

“How much did you have to drink, Shiro?” Pidge asked. 

********

Shiro paused his poking, but apparently only because he needed to use that finger to count. He stared at his hands then held up his hands palms, out towards her, and said, “Eleventy-five.” 

********

Pidge scoffed, because she was pretty sure the actual number was closer to two. 

********

“Shiro, why don’t you watch the rest of the movie with me?” Pidge suggested. Shiro shook his head. 

********

“Got to find the magic freckle…” He said, resuming poking Pidge’s face. 

********

She reached up and grabbed his hand. “Okay, look, it was cute when you first started it, but now it’s a bit annoying and I’d like my personal space back. Okay?” 

********

“But… Magic freckle…” Shiro said, looking stricken. “I have to find the magic freckle!” 

********

“And what exactly does the magic freckle do?” Pidge asked with a sigh. 

********

“It gives you superpowers!” Shiro said. 

********

“I don’t think I need superpowers at the moment, but maybe later,” Pidge said. She pointed to the television screen. “Oh, look, Rapunzel’s hair glows when she sings! How cool is that for a superpower!” 

********

“Yeah, but not the one you need.” Shiro said, pouting slightly. But even in his drunk state he refrained from continuing to poke her. He yawned and said, “You need superpowers… You’re so small and tiny… I get worried about you…” 

********

He suddenly sat up straighter, eyes wide. “Imma gonna teach you self-defense… Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do… No one’s gonna mess with you after then… ‘Though she is but little, she is fierce’.” 

********

And with that quotation of Shakespeare, Shiro slumped over and started snoring, fast asleep. Pidge gently pat him on the head and settled in to watch the rest of the movie on her own. 

********

Shiro as a drunk… Was a weird roller-coaster ride. 

********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's safe to say that I earned my T rating this chapter...
> 
> Also, go check out this awesome fanart that hadobaloo posted on tumblr! https://hadobaloo.tumblr.com/post/164009073034/i-just-looove-the-slow-burn-fic-just-like-magic-by


	26. Shiro

The party the night before? Fun, some of the most fun Shiro had ever had. Ten out of ten, would do again.

Waking up the next morning? Not fun, the worst. Negative twenty out of ten, would never do again…

He hadn’t intended to get drunk. It just happened. And now he suffered the consequences in the form of a massive hangover.

Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one laying around on the apartment living room floor groaning and vowing to never drink again.

All things considered, though, Pidge, Shay and Slav were nice enough to make them breakfast. And, more importantly, coffee.

“Remind me to never drink that much again,” Lance groaned from where he sat at the card tables, head pillowed on his arms, face down.

“We have, and you have still done it,” Shay pointed out from the kitchen, where she was scrambling eggs for everyone.

“Slav, is there an alternate reality in which hangovers don’t exist?” Matt asked, voice muffled as his face was buried in a couch cushion.

“No.” Slav said, shaking his head as he opened up a pill bottle. “However, Tylenol exists in this reality and is good for hangovers.”

“I’ll take it,” Matt said, pushing himself up slightly as Slav dutifully started passing out the painkillers. 

Shiro gratefully accepted his allotment and swallowed the pills dry with a wince. His whole body hurt, his arm especially. That was what he got for sleeping with his prosthetic on, he assumed.

Rolo moaned appreciatively as Pidge handed him a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee. “Bless you, Pigeon, bless you…”

“You were right, Nyma,” Hunk said from where he laid flat on his back on the floor. “A hangover is a cursed half-life… Can someone, like, stab me in the brain? It’d hurt less than this hangover headache.”

“Coffee makes it better,” Nyma said, blinking slowly, her hair a poufy mess as she yawned and stretched before accepting a cup of coffee from Pidge as well.

“Shiro, do you want coffee or tea?” Pidge asked.

Shiro usually hated coffee. Hated the taste, the smell, everything. Tea was great. Tea smelled good and tasted good. And had less caffeine, too. But that meant that there wasn’t enough caffeine to knock out this headache, so he reluctantly said, “Coffee. But only half a cup.”

Pidge nodded and ducked back into the kitchen.

“I’m not as nice as Pidge to bring your food to you,” Shay said. “And the eggs are ready.”

“Shay, you beautiful angel without wings,” Allura said, pressing a hand to her head as she walked into the kitchen. “What have we done to deserve you as a friend? Hunk, well, it’s obvious why he deserves you, you’re both cinnamon rolls too pure for this world… But the rest of us heathens…”

Just then, the timer on the oven dinged.

“Wait, is that…?” Nyma said, perking up slightly.

Shay smiled and opened the oven, using a pot holder to pull out a pan full of cinnamon rolls.

“We are not worthy…” Keith breathed.

“The cinnamon roll is serving us cinnamon rolls…” Lance whispered. “That’s so meta…”

“Are you all certain that you are not still inebriated?” Slav asked, arching an eyebrow appraisingly.

“Trust me, we’re sober and regretting everything.” Shiro said.

“Next time we celebrate a birthday, how about we just, I don’t know, not get wasted.” Hunk said, kissing Shay on the cheek as she put icing on the cinnamon rolls.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I think last night got all spring-break partying out of my system,” Lance said as he resumed his seat at the table a few moments later, with a plate of eggs and cinnamon roll. “And spring break isn’t for another two weeks.”

“No quiznaking way midterms are next week,” Matt groaned.

“No way the semester is nearly half over,” Nyma said, sipping her coffee. “They come and go so fast…”

“That’s both a good thing and a bad thing, I guess,” Keith said.

Shiro glanced up as two cups were placed in front of him, one with coffee and the other with tea. “Thanks, Pidge.” He said, reaching for the cup of tea first.

“No problem,” Pidge said before she went to get her own breakfast.

“What days does everyone have midterms?” Slav asked.

“Can we not talk about midterms until our hangovers are gone?” Lance asked.

“Alright, but the day can affect the probability of your grade,” Slav said.

“Then as someone who has a midterm every day next week, I really don’t want to talk about it,” Hunk said with a grimace.

“Ouch, that’s harsh, man,” Rolo said, wincing.

As Pidge sat down with her plate and cup of coffee, she said, “Hey, Shiro, can I take you up on something that drunk-you said last night?”

Shiro froze, dropping his fork, panicking for two reasons.

One, what the quiznak did he say and do last night? And two, he didn’t mean to drop the fork. It didn’t even fall out of his hand in shock and fear of what drunk Shiro could have possibly done the night before.

Was there something wrong with his prosthetic?

“Katie, that’s cruel,” Matt said, looking over the rim of his coffee cup at his sister. “Asking a hungover person to recall something they said while drunk.”

“Oh, sorry,” Pidge said, eyes widening. “It’s okay, Shiro, you just said something about teaching me self-defense and I thought it sounded like a good idea.”

“Unbelievable,” Allura grumbled. “Shiro’s a drunk with actual good, I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-sober ideas.”

Shiro relaxed some. “Oh, if that’s it, yeah, you can definitely take me up on that. Can we work on that sometime after midterms?”

Pidge nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Am I the only one wanting to know why Drunk-Shiro wanted Pidge to know self-defense?” Lance asked.

“Drunk-Shiro thought I needed to know self-defense to make up for my lack of superpowers,” Pidge explained.

“Fair enough,” Lance said with a nod, sipping his coffee.

By the way that Pidge was smirking, Shiro suspected it was more than just that.

And he was afraid to know what he had done the night before.

Hopefully it hadn’t been too bad. She wasn’t avoiding him. So he must not have said anything too stupid in front of his crush while drunk…

No. He didn’t want to know.

*

Shiro groaned as he entered the apartment, kicking off his shoes before he went in further. He sat down in the armchair, and detached his prosthetic, sighing with relief when it was off. He massaged the swollen stump with his left hand, groaning slightly. The limb had been uncooperative all day; it was tight and hurting where it connected with his arm, and he kept dropping things—namely his pens while taking notes in class—or the fingers would seize up.

“It’s still hurting?” Keith said, coming out of the bathroom with a towel over his head. “You slept with it on Saturday night, and it’s Tuesday…”

“I know,” Shiro groaned. “I don’t know what’s going on except that it hurts.”

Keith frowned as he came to sit on the back of the couch. “Is it the stump or the prosthetic?”

“I’m not entirely sure. The stump is swollen, but I was having trouble even before that started. It’s not phantom limb pain, that’s all I know.”

“Shiro, this isn’t the first time this has happened in the last few weeks. You had trouble getting it on that one day, and you’ve been taking more pain medicine lately—want an ice pack or heating pad?”

“Ice, please.”

Keith stood up and went into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Also, isn’t it about time to go to the doctor for the prosthetic to get checked?

Shiro sighed. He had been trying to avoid making that appointment, but said, “Yeah, it is. Alright. Bring me an ice pack and I’ll call Doctor Gunderson to see when she’s available.”

Being an adult and having to admit you need a doctor’s appointment _and_ make the call to set up the appointment yourself sucked.

Keith brought over the ice-pack and Shiro adjusted it on the stump while Keith dug Shiro’s phone out of his backpack.

“I’ve got some homework to finish up real quick, but I’ll make sandwiches for dinner in about an hour,” Keith said.

“Sounds great,” Shiro said, unlocking his phone, frowning slightly as it took two tries to do so with his non-dominant thumb. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith nodded and disappeared into the bedroom. Shiro scrolled through his contacts list, vaguely wondering how many people his age had a world-renowned medical professional on speed-dial. He found the name in his phone and hit ‘send’.

The phone rang a few times, but then he heard a female voice pick-up, saying: “Good afternoon, Takashi.”

“Hi, Doctor Gunderson,” He said. “Is now a bad time?”

“Never a bad time for one of my favorite patients,” Dr. Gunderson responded. “Everything alright? How’s your arm?”

“Ah, well, I think that’s for you to figure out, I’m afraid,” Shiro said. “I think I’m in need of an adjustment.”

He explained what had been going on, and Dr. Gunderson responded after a moment of thought, “I have a few ideas of what can be going on here, but obviously I can’t know for sure until I can see both the prosthetic and your residual limb. But you’re in luck. I’m actually going to be at the satellite office at Altea University at the end of next week. Any chance I can see you in the office on Friday? I know that’s midterm week, so if that day doesn’t work I can see you Saturday or another day.”

“No, Friday is perfect. My last exam is on Thursday morning.”

“Perfect. I’m free that whole morning, just tell me when works for you.”

Shiro double-checked his work schedule, then they settled on a time. “Thank you so much, Doctor Gunderson.” Shiro said as he sloppily wrote down the information in his planner with his left hand.

“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t fixed the problem.” She responded. “Until then, limit how often you wear the prosthetic and take frequent breaks throughout the day. Oh, and, Takashi? I know that you use exercise and intermural sports as part of your recovery plan, but until I see you I would like it if you stopped your work outs and limit physical exertion with your arm. Exercise can increase your discomfort, as the residual limb swells naturally during exercise. It could also potentially damage the prosthetic.”

Shiro hesitated, looking at the small snitch that Keith had doodled for him in his calendar, the night before the appointment. A Quidditch match, a big one against Fala College.

But telling your doctor—your world famous doctor at that—that you were planning on playing a game from a fictional book series the night before your appointment and explain the reasons why you absolutely had to play… Yeah, there was no way to say that.

Being an adult sucked.

“Yeah, that’s no problem,” He lied. “I can do that.”

“Alright; do you want me to e-mail you a note for your employer?”

Shiro and Dr. Gunderson spoke on the phone together for a few more minutes, the doctor giving him advice on how to manage the pain in the meantime, before they hung up, leaving Shiro sitting in the living room in silence.

He thumped his head back on the armchair. How was he going to get around this?

He sat and thought for a few moments, then it hit him.

He would follow Dr. Gunderson’s advice. To a certain extent.

He brought up the group-chat on his phone and activated the speech-to-text option. “Hey guys,” He said. “Canceling practice on Thursday in order for us all to study for midterms.”

The responses immediately started pouring in.

**Nerd-is-the-Word: Never thought I’d live to see the day Shiro canceled practice for a little thing like midterms.**

**Hunky-Dory: Shiro, you’re not sick or anything, right?**

**Merman_Walking: You do remember we’ve got a game next week, right?**

“I’m fine, Hunk,” Shiro said. “And, yes, Lance, I’m aware. But grades are way more important than Quidditch practice.”

**PrincessAllura: Oh quiznak, he’s dying…**

**Merman_Walking: Or has a concussion…**

**Nerd-is-the-Word: Or still drunk from the other night…**

“I’m fine, but seriously, Iverson is looking for any excuse he can get to cut the team, and if it’s implied we’re not working hard enough in our classes, well, I really don’t want to think about it.”

**Shay-the-Bae: That’s fair.**

“Thank you, Shay.”

**Hunky-Dory: Well, since our schedules are technically already cleared for Thursday night practice, how about we do a group study session together?**

**Merman_Walking: I like the sound of that.**

**PrincessAllura: Let’s all meet at the Castle; best way to get caffeinated while we study.**

**Stabby-McStabber: Did I just read something about getting caffeinated?**

Shiro relaxed into his chair, Captain Purr-Card coming and curling up on his lap. Shiro smiled.

As long he limited his exercise—and limited that exercise to one Quidditch match—there was no harm done, right?

It’s not like Dr. Gunderson would ever know…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out these pieces of fabulous fan-art!
> 
> http://ikdart.tumblr.com/post/164144665471/sits-here-dying-over-one-of-the-cutest-parts-of
> 
> https://hadobaloo.tumblr.com/post/164009073034/i-just-looove-the-slow-burn-fic-just-like-magic-by


	27. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on vacation tonight, so I'm not entirely certain when the next chapter will be, so here's an update for the meantime!

Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge glanced at the flyer Professor Arus had given her regarding the freshman showcase.

She hadn’t given it much thought when Professor Arus first told her about the showcase; but since her conversation with Shiro about why she used ‘Pidge’ instead of ‘Katie’ and the deal they had struck, she had been thinking about it more.

But could she come up with something good enough for the showcase?

She sighed and closed up her laptop, essay temporarily abandoned. The deadline was Friday; she had to make a decision.

She needed advice.

She grabbed her cellphone and scrolled through her contacts, smiling some as she pressed her mother’s name. The phone rang for a few seconds, then she heard, “Hi Katie! How are you doing, college girl?”

“Hi, Mom,” She said. “I’m doing alright. But, um, I kind of wanted some advice.”

Pidge explained about the showcase and that she was thinking about signing up under her real name, as well as her doubts about creating something that would be taken seriously.

Her mother was quiet for a moment, then said, “Sweetheart, I don’t know why you’re doubting yourself now. You’ve always been so confident and self-assured… That is one of my favorite things about you. I understand why you want to work under a pseudonym, and I support your decision, but I’m also ecstatic that you want to work with your real name. I won’t lie, I’ve been worried about you since you started college, that you weren’t finding a place where you belong and was even more concerned about you finding your place and voice in the career field. But you’ve found your place, now raise your voice. Push those doubts aside and sign up. Then blow everyone away like you always do.”

“Yeah, but with what?” Pidge asked, twirling a pencil in her hand. “I don’t know what I should do, where to begin. If this is my debut into the world of prosthetics, it has to be good.”

Her mother thought for a moment, and said, “Build off of Project K. Take all the things you’ve learned, all the ideas you’ve had since then, and make it work.”

Pidge frowned slightly. Project K, K for Katie. It was the project she had worked with her mother… The project that was successful, and Shiro used that success every single day.

“I thought you were working with those ideas, Mom,” Pidge said.

“I was, but they are your ideas, Katie. I won’t take those from you, won’t claim them as mine. Use your ideas and your brilliant, beautiful brain to make a difference in someone’s life, and that includes your own. The patent that was the result of Project K should have had your name on it as well, and you know it. I won’t let you do that again, as your mother, as your mentor, and as a professional in the field you want to enter.”

Pidge relaxed some. “Alright,” She said. “I’ll do it. Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, Kit Kat,” Her mom said. “Oh, before I forget! I was actually going to call you and Matt before you called me… Matt said that you two have a Quidditch match next Thursday night, and your father and I are going to be able to come watch!”

“That’s awesome!” Pidge said, grinning. She missed her parents, and hoped that they would enjoy watching them play. “Are you just coming just that night for the match?”

“Actually, we were going to stay overnight. Which is actually another good reason that you called me before I called you, because I’m doing two adjustment appointments with Project K recipients that Friday. Would you like to join if you’re available? I don’t know what days you have midterms…”

“My last one is on Thursday afternoon, and I would love to join! Thank you!”

“I’ll love having you! I’ll just need to double-check with the patients to make sure they don’t mind having a student in the room before we set anything in stone.”

After saying good-bye to her mother and talking to her father for a few minutes, Pidge went back to her essay, but not before checking the Quidditch Team group chat.

Shiro cancelled practice, which was surprising and weird, but instead the team was gathering at The Castle Café in order to study.

**The_Pigeon: No make-up practice before the match next Thursday?**

**Black_Lion: Nope; schedule doesn’t work out. But we should be okay.**

That was really weird for Shiro… She wondered what had suddenly brought this on…

She shrugged and went onto her essay.

Ah well. Everything would work out.

Plus, she would get an opportunity to show Shiro her completed application.

*

The week and accompanying midterms flew by. Pidge’s brain felt a bit like mush as she walked out of her last midterm and towards her dorm, where her Quidditch uniform laid spread out on her bed along with her broom and empty water-bottle.

She was tying her shoelaces when her cellphone dinged, indicating a text. She saw that there was a message for both her and Matt, from their mom, saying that traffic had delayed her and their father a bit, so they might not make it for the start of the match but hoped that they would be there within the first ten minutes.

On the field, Pidge stretched with her teammates and anxiously awaited the arrival of the team from Fala College, an all-girls school.

“How do they get past the Nine and Three-Quarters rule?” Pidge had asked the week before at the group study session.

“Three of the girls have brothers on the team,” Allura explained. “Two of which attend the small community college—a two-year school that is too small to have its own team and is predominately online—and the other doesn’t attend a school but is college-aged. So they are allowed to play to meet the gender requirements.”

Though as the Fala College van arrived, Pidge was certain that the team didn’t need the boys at all. She was pretty sure she was more intimidated by the four top players alone than the Marmora and Galra teams combined.

First off, there was the team captain and Chaser, Acxa, a Latina girl who stood just a few inches taller than Pidge. She took in the field like some sort of military general, head up high, back-straight, no-nonsense on her face. She spoke crisply and clearly, but with some bite.

Then there was Zethrid, who stood just about as tall as Shiro. She had a blonde undercut, a lot of muscle, and quite a loud personality. She played Beater and Pidge had already been warned to be extremely aware of when Zethrid had a Bludger, because she was particularly brutal and quite a sadist.

Ezor—a pretty black girl just a bit shorter than Acxa—was probably the girliest girly girl Pidge had ever laid eyes on. She was adorned with a glittery pink ribbon around her high ponytail, had perfect eye make-up, glittery lip-gloss, pink water bottle, pink bag, pink shoes, socks, and shorts. Just so much pink… The only non-pink things she was visibly wearing was her red uniform shirt and her position-identifying headband. She was so cheerful and was so genuinely happy to be introduced to Pidge prior to the start of the game. But Matt, Shay and Allura had all apparently struggled to score against the bubbly Keeper.

And, lastly, there was Narti. The quiet hijab-wearing girl was legally blind due to her low vision, but despite her disability, she was a top-notch Seeker as well as a medal-winning Special Olympics runner. No one went easy on her on the pitch—not the Snitch, not the opposing Seeker—and Lance told her that even Zarkon’s record as a Seeker wasn’t as good as Narti’s.

Pidge wisely decided not to ask Lance where his record stood in comparison.

“Can they be beaten?” Pidge had asked. “Or are they like Galra Tech?”

“They can be beaten,” Shiro said. “And so can Galra Tech.”

Now, however, Pidge was starting to wish they hadn’t skipped a practice.

“What happens if we lose?” Pidge asked Shay quietly. “Could we still go to Regionals?”

“It all depends on points,” Shay said, frowning. “But don’t think about that. Just focus on playing the game.”

Pidge took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tried to psych herself up for the match.

Pidge watched as Shiro and Acxa shook hands in front of the referee, then noticed that Shiro switched his broom from his left hand to his right. Huh. Usually he held the broom with his non-dominant hand. She didn’t think too much of it until after the game began, and she noticed she was still holding the broom with his right hand.

But, after trying to score on Ezor a few times, watching the girl’s smirk get bigger and bigger every time she caught the Quaffle, Pidge had an idea.

She, Matt and Allura were all right-handed. A great majority of the world was right handed.

Ezor, however, was left handed. She also held her broom in her right hand. But unlike Shiro, her right hand was not her dominate hand. So throws from right handed Chasers were more likely to go right unless they were directly in front of the left-most hoop, meaning that it was easier for Ezor to stop them with her dominate left hand.

Pidge switched hands, holding her broom with her right and throwing the Quaffle with her left.

It was difficult, but it paid off when the Quaffle soared through the hoop. The referee’s whistle blew, Ezor pouted slightly, the Altean fans cheered.

Pidge smirked.

It was a whole new game after that. Matt and Allura quickly followed Pidge’s lead, and it paid off.

After Matt put in another goal, Fala College had struck back by scoring their first goal. Although the switching of the hands was making the Altean Chasers stronger, Acxa had quickly figured out that it made the Keeper weaker.

But for every goal that Fala College scored, Altea scored two more.

Pidge had known that the Snitch had been released into play, as had the Seekers—Lance and Narti—but she hadn’t been focusing too much on them until Allura put in a goal, and before the team could get back into position to restart gameplay, the Snitch Referee blew his whistle.

Narti stood silently, hand out in front of her, displaying the Snitch.

The Snitch was caught.

The game should have been over.

Pidge quickly looked over to the score display, which was being operated by two of Lance’s younger siblings.

Altea had been leading. But Fala College got the Snitch, earning them thirty points.

The schools were now tied.

The referee sent the two teams to get water before overtime could start.

“How much time’s in overtime again?” Keith asked before gulping down water.

“Five minutes,” Shiro said, taking off his headband to wipe sweat off his brow. “We have five minutes to put one goal in and make sure Fala College doesn’t do the same.”

“Does the game stop as soon as a goal is scored?” Pidge asked.

“No, it’s not sudden death, thank goodness,” Allura said. “Play will just continue on until five minutes are up. But if we go into second overtime, that is sudden death.”

Water break was over too soon, and the players were heading back to the pitch.

“Good luck!” Lance said as he stood on the sidelines with Shay.

It was somewhat reassuring that Fala College looked just as tired and reluctant to go into overtime. But the whistle blew, and the players took off, though with much less gusto than they had when the game first began.

Two minutes into overtime, Allura put the Quaffle through the hoop, to the great delight of the Altean crowd and players. Less than a minute later, that joy was crushed as Acxa put in a goal. With half the overtime gone, Fala College seemed to feel more confident that they’d score another point while the Alteans weren’t so sure they could do the same.

Then a series of events happened in quick succession.

Acxa was calling for a pass, and the Quaffle was thrown… But so was a Bludger from Keith, hitting Acxa on the arm. Allura intercepted the pass as Acxa angrily ran back to the Fala start line.

Allura threw the Quaffle towards Pidge, who caught it and ran towards the goalposts. Pidge could see Matt, closer to the goals but Ezor’s eyes on Pidge in possession of the Quaffle. Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge saw Zethrid scoop up a Bludger.

Pidge had an idea. “Matt! Catch!” She called, hefting the Quaffle as if she was going to throw it.

Zethrid’s eyes gleamed as she threw the Bludger aimed at Matt. Ezor’s eyes shifted to Matt as well, in case the Bludger missed.

But the Bludger hit true, colliding with Matt’s leg.

And seconds later, the Quaffle soared through the hoop.

Zethrid let out a cry of dismay and Ezor blinked in confusion before a full realization of what happened sank in.

Thirty seconds were on the clock when they restarted play, and Fala College surged forward but it was for naught.

The whistle blew, and victory was Altea’s.

“Nice thinking, Pidge!” Shiro said, offering her a high-five.

“Yeah, but next time, can I not be collateral damage?” Matt asked, hugging his sister.

“Oh, come on, like you never knew that I’d someday use you as collateral damage,” Pidge said, grinning.

They shook hands with Fala College.

“Good job, kitties,” Ezor said as she shook Pidge’s hand, and the shorter girl was amazed that Ezor’s make-up wasn’t even smudged after nearly an hour of game play.

“If you can beat us, you might just stand a chance against Galra Tech,” Acxa said, a bit stiffly.

“Yeah, give ‘em hell for us!” Zethrid added, roughly giving Hunk a slap on the back that sent him stumbling forward.

As Fala College started to gather their things, the Alteans went to see friends and family in the spectator area. Pidge and Matt easily found their parents, Colleen and Sam.

“You both were amazing!” Sam said as he gave his daughter a hug. “So proud of you two!”

“Thanks! I’m glad you were able to come watch!” Pidge said, kissing her father’s cheek.

“We’re just glad we made it in time,” Colleen said, gently ruffling Matt’s hair.

“Let’s introduce you to the team!” Matt said, taking his mother’s hand. They started with Hunk and Shay, who were talking with Rolo, Nyma and Slav, and the group was joined by Allura, Professor Arus and Coran.

Lance’s family sort of crashed over them like a tsunami. Pidge was surprised to see two more siblings had been added, who were introduced as Lance’s twin older sisters on spring break. Pidge was even more surprised to learn that there were two more older brothers who were absent. Shortly after that, Keith came over with his adopted parents, Mitsu and a tall young man who looked a lot like Shiro.

“Did Shiro run out on us?” Lance asked as he slightly shifted his youngest sister, Bella, who was clinging to his back.

“Nah, Acxa wanted to speak to him for a moment,” Keith answered. 

He then introduced the stranger as his other adopted brother, Shinji, who attended a liberal arts school about two hours away and had gotten into town that afternoon for spring break. Pidge was evidentially the only Quidditch player that Shinji hadn’t been introduced to before, and he grinned in a slightly mischievous way as Keith introduced the two.

“Oh, so _you’re_ Pidge,” He said, shaking her hand. “Great to finally meet you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you…”

Pidge was confused a bit by this, and wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

“Hey, Shiro!” Matt said exuberantly as Shiro approached. “This is my dad, Sam Holt.”

As Pidge watched her father and Shiro shake hands, something occurred to her. Shiro wouldn’t need an introduction to her mother. Because they had already met.

But she couldn’t stop as her mother stepped over towards Shiro, Matt and Sam. Pidge could only watch as Shiro’s eyes widened slightly and stood up straighter, stiffer, and Colleen had the tiniest smirk on her face at watching Shiro squirm.

Well. That she wasn’t expecting.

Pidge moved quickly towards her family as Matt said, “Shiro, this is my mom.”

Colleen’s smirk turned into a pleasant smile as she said, “Good game, Takashi.”

“Um,” Shiro said, his face turning very, very red. “Thank you, Dr. Gunderson…”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Hunk said, brow furrowing as he glanced back and forth between Pidge and Matt’s mother and Shiro. Pidge felt really bad for Shiro as suddenly it seemed like everyone was watching the exchange, and Shiro for some reason looked both embarrassed and guilty.

“Um, yeah.” Shiro said awkwardly. “Dr. Gunderson is the reason I have two hands again…”

Keith scowled and said something in Japanese, which elicited responses from both Mitsu and Dr. Shirogane as Shiro seemed to wilt.

Pidge could only watch as her mother’s smirk returned in full force.

Just what was going on here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, somebody's in trouble...
> 
> Because Ruby_slipper_of_iowa asked, here is everybody's ages and year:
> 
> Shiro, 20 (turns 21), Sophomore  
> Pidge, 18 (will turn 19), Freshman  
> Hunk, Keith, and Slav, 20, Sophomore  
> Lance and Shay, 19, Sophomore (Lance is very happy to have Pidge on the team so he's no longer the youngest, btw.)  
> Allura, Matt, Rolo, and Nyma, 21, Juniors


	28. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Autumnal Equinox!

The only word running through Shiro’s mind was “Quiznak.”

 _Quiznak, quiznak, quiznak,_ quiznak, _I am so quiznaked…_

Keith figured it out first, and scowled as he switched to speaking in Japanese. “ _You weren’t supposed to play tonight, were you? Because you’re seeing her tomorrow for your arm, right?_ ”

“ _Oooh…_ ” Mitsu said, eyes brightening. “ _You’re in trouble, aren’t you, Takashi?_ ”

“ _Mitsu, don’t tease your brother._ ” Her father said, but gave his son a look that said that the answer to Mitsu’s question was definitely a ‘yes’.

Shiro wondered several things all at once.

How hard would it be to fake his death?

Would actual death be better?

Could he literally melt into a puddle of humiliation right now?

Why couldn’t he have toughed out the pain in his arm for another two weeks and avoid all this entirely?

Could his parents still ground him even though he had moved out?

Was Keith going to kill him over this? Or, like Mitsu and Shinji, just never let it go…?

And how the quiznak was the world so small that his prosthetist was also the mother of two of his Quidditch teammates, one of whom was his crush?

The prosthetist-slash-mom-of-his-crush in question simply met his eyes and smirked.

Yep. He was a dead man walking.

*

Shiro pulled the blankets over his face as the alarm went off.

He hadn’t slept at all the night before, and was certain that his face would never stop burning.

The lectures he got—from his mother, from his father, from Keith, from Mitsu and Shinji—were still ringing in his ear.

And Dr. Gunderson’s smirk was a permanent image in his mind. He realized sometime around three AM was practically identical to Pidge’s smirk. Which really didn’t help either.

The covers were yanked off of him roughly and Keith stood over him, grinning sadistically.

“Time to get up, Shiro,” He said in a cheerful, sing-song voice that was completely uncharacteristic and only meant certain doom for Shiro. After all, Keith was not a morning person.

Quiznak, he was so screwed. He was not going to live this down. Ever.

If he survived this appointment, that is.

“Keith, I swear I’ll never take your Pixy Stixs and Red Bull ever again—I’ll even buy you twice, no, three times the amount of what’s currently in your stash—if you don’t make me go.”

“Nope,” Keith said, popping the ‘p’. “You’re going. Time to man up and face the music.”

Shiro groaned and rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow.

If he just laid there long enough, maybe he could asphyxiate himself…

Keith seemed to realize his plot, and grabbed Shiro by the ankles, literally dragging him out of bed. As Shiro hit the floor, he wondered how Keith looked so scrawny but yet had so much strength.

“I will dress you, feed you, and drive you to this appointment if you don’t do it yourself.” Keith growled.

Shiro thumped the back of his head against the floor in defeat. “Fine… Just let me get up…”

Which was why a half-hour later, Shiro was no longer lying in his bed wishing he could curl up in a ball and die, and was now sitting in a waiting room chair—prosthetic arm across his lap—and wishing he could die.

He was not looking forward to this appointment…

The only potential saving grace for him was that Dr. Gunderson was going to have a student in the room. She had emailed him the same night he made the appointment, asking for his permission, which he gladly gave. Maybe Dr. Gunderson would be too distracted by the student’s presence to give him a lecture.

It felt like both a short time and an eternity had passed when his name was called, and the nice receptionist led him back to an exam room. Any hopes of mentally preparing himself and his excuses in private were destroyed as the exam room door opened, revealing Dr. Gunderson already inside.

And no sign of her student.

As the receptionist closed the door behind him, Shiro gulped silently.

He was in for it now…

“Good morning, Takashi,” Dr. Gunderson said cheerfully. She gently tapped the exam table and said, “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Shiro did so, though mostly out of fear of what would happen if he disobeyed her orders again.

He sat awkwardly on the edge of the exam table, absently swinging his feet some, hardly able to look up. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Um, Dr. Gunderson? I need to apologize for last night…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Takashi.” Dr. Gunderson said. Shiro looked up, confused to see Dr. Gunderson smiling slightly but also trying to look confused. “What exactly do you need to apologize for?”

“Uh…” Shiro said blankly. Was he being gas-lighted? Or was this part of his punishment from her?

Dr. Gunderson held up a finger, then took off her white coat, tossing it on the back of the chair. Then she stuck out her hand, smiling. “Hi, I’m Colleen. I’m Matt and Katie’s mom.”

Shiro glanced from her hand to her face and back, still very confused. Colleen laughed.

“Takashi, last night I was in ‘mom mode’. Not doctor mode. Colleen Gunderson-Holt doesn’t know what you’re talking about or why you’re apologizing for playing a perfectly good game of Quidditch.” She picked up her coat again. “However, Doctor Colleen Gunderson does need to know that you played last night. Physical exertion—even from the night before the appointment—can affect how the prosthetic is adjusted. Doctor Gunderson needs to know in order to take care of her patient. And—between you and me—she’s not going to hold the fact that you disobeyed her instructions over your head. Well, not too much.” Colleen smirked as she put the coat back on. “Besides. Doctor Gunderson rather enjoyed watching you squirm last night. Pretty sure this won’t happen again.”

“Er, yes, it won’t happen again,” Shiro said, feeling his blush return. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gunderson. I should have listened to your instructions better, or asked permission to play. I am really, really sorry…”

“It’s in the past, it’s done, and I forgive you,” Colleen said, waving a hand. She smiled at him as she took a seat in the chair in front of him. “And, honestly? I was glad to see you play last night. You’ve come a long way since the first time we met.”

“Yeah, sorry about that too,” Shiro said. “I probably wasn’t the easiest patient to deal with back then.”

“You were an angry and grieving young man at the time. I can’t fault you for any of that, though. You just needed time to heal and process.” Colleen said, grabbing her clipboard. “You were a challenge. Lucky for the both of us, I like challenges.”

There was a sudden knock at the door. Or what was supposed to be a knock. It sounded more like the door was kicked three times in quick succession.

“And there’s my student. Sent her on a coffee run so we could have a moment to talk,” Dr. Gunderson said, standing up from her chair. “Still alright for her to observe?”

“Yeah, perfectly fine,” Shiro said.

Dr. Gunderson hesitated before she opened the door. “Perhaps you should meet her before you give a final answer.”

Shiro felt his heart—well, his whole body really—jolt as Pidge walked in the room, carrying two coffee cups that must have come from the nearby cafeteria.

“Sorry for getting back late,” Pidge said, setting the cups on the counter. “The pots had just run out when I got there and had to wait for them to brew another batch.” She turned around, a pleasant smile on her face as she said, “Hi, I’m Katie Hol—”

She cut herself off, eyes widening some as she saw Shiro.

“I believe we’ve met before,” Shiro said awkwardly in the silence that followed.

“I wasn’t expecting that you two had met when I made this arrangement,” Dr. Gunderson said. “If either of you want to back out now, it’s completely fine.”

“No, no. This is fine.” Shiro said quickly.

He understood that meme with the dog and the room on fire on a whole different level now.

“Um… If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay,” Pidge said, looking suddenly shy.

“It’s fine,” Shiro said again.

No it wasn’t.

Oh quiznak, she was not only going to see the prosthetic—quiznak, she had already seen it before not the mention it was lying on the quiznaking exam table right beside him—but she’d see the stump. No one except his family and doctors saw the stump.

Quiznak, this was a bad idea.

Double quiznak, it was way too late, he already said it was okay for her to stay…

Quiznak, quiznak, quiznak…

The room was on fire, he was the dog, but everything was fine…

“Alright, then, let’s get started,” Dr. Gunderson said with a sort of forced cheerfulness. Shiro once again told Dr. Gunderson about the problems he had been having, and she nodded. “First let me start by examining your residual limb, then the prosthetic.”

Shiro knew this was all coming, knew it before he even made the appointment. But now as he rolled up the sleeve on his shirt, he was once again regretting everything. Because it meant bearing the scars to one more person.

But… he realized that if it had to be one more person, he was glad it was Pidge.

He tried to look at his current situation as a good thing. He was helping Pidge, right? This was what she wanted to do as a career, and he was a tool in her learning how to be the best.

 _Okay,_ he thought, relaxing some. _I can live with that._

“Well,” Dr. Gunderson said after a moment. “I still want to check the prosthetic, but what I’m feeling in the residual limb right now isn’t all swelling.”

“It’s not?” Shiro said, confused.

“You’ve been gaining muscle in the limb,” Dr. Gunderson explained. “That’s very good. That being said, there is some swelling that isn’t muscle and can be a problem. Have you bought a new compression sock since your last appointment with me?”

“Only the one that you told me to get to replace my first one,” Shiro said.

“Then you’re due for another new one. You should try to get one at most every six months. That should help with the issues you’ve been having in getting the prosthetic on as well as the pain there,” Dr. Gunderson said. “But what I’m concerned about now is what you said about dropping things. That shouldn’t be happening.”

“If I’m building muscle, does that mean that my nerve endings are shifting? Or from the swelling?” Shiro asked.

“No, because the nerve endings that work with the prosthetic are so close to the skin. The nerves shift with the changes in muscle mass and the swelling.” Dr. Gunderson said. She turned behind her and said to Pidge, “Well, what do you think the problem could be?”

Pidge bit her lower lip, spinning side-to-side slowly on the low stool she was sitting on, then said, “It sounds like the software needs to be upgraded.”

“Software?” Shiro repeated. Even though his own prosthetic fell under the field in which he was currently studying, Shiro purposefully chose to know as little as possible about the ins and outs of how his arm worked. He didn’t like to think too much about it. If he didn’t know how it worked, if he could just cover it up, he could just forget that the arm was metal and not truly his, if even for just a little while.

Pidge nodded. “Most prosthetic limbs like this have to be charged after use, like a cellphone. But not this one. This one is powered by, well, you. It’s the first pulse-powered limb ever. Blood still flows to the residual limb, you still have veins there. So the hardware converts what is essentially your heartbeat into power. The software has a resting heart rate as a baseline in order to get that power. But while these were designed for active use, according to the files on the project you’re the youngest recipient, and most likely the most active. So your heartrate may often exceed the maximum the software has set up to receive—through exercise as well as stress—and therefore is not receiving power when your heartrate is too high.”

“That’s a fairly easy fix, then,” Dr. Gunderson said to Shiro—who was more than a bit blown away by all the information that poured out of Pidge’s mouth. How did she know all this? “We can set you up for a stress-test. You’ll just run on a treadmill for a while while a monitor records your heart rate.” She turned back to Pidge. “But couldn’t it be a hardware issue?”

“Yeah, it could,” Pidge said. “The finger joints could be out of alignment, or something could be malfunctioning with the hand and wrist mechanisms. Which should definitely be checked for issues as well as part of the general check-up. But I really think the software is the culprit.”

“And the problem showing up now and not sometime last year?” Dr. Gunderson queried, folding her arms over her chest.

“Predominately additional stress as well as outdated information and software.” Pidge said. “The latter of which poses an onslaught of new problems in the future.”

Shiro turned from Pidge to her mother and back again this whole time, feeling like he was watching a tennis match. He hardly understood a word of the technical jargon that mother and daughter were speaking in, mostly because they seemed to be speaking so fast and at times replaced words with numbers. It was like a reverse of eighth-grade algebra. He was also starting to feel like an accessory for his own arm, as the two hunkered down over the prosthetic across the room, mumbling and passing tools back and forth.

He was also fairly certain they had forgotten he was even in the room…

Of course, they quickly remembered him when they needed to test out their modifications.

“So, uh,” Shiro said as Dr. Gunderson carefully inserted some sort of cord into the arm. She had vaguely explained it was to watch some sort of numbers as Shiro moved it, and he decided that he was okay with leaving it at that. “You know a lot about how this thing works, Pidge. I mean, I got the owner’s manual and I still don’t think I know half as much about how it works as you do.”

“Oh, well, there’s a good reason for that,” Dr. Gunderson said, smiling slightly. “Katie actually—”

“I’m actually using information from this model and how it works in order to create my own prototype for the freshman showcase!” Pidge said quickly, interrupting her mother, jumping to her feet for some reason. “And Mom was awesome enough to let me read up on this model and use data in order to start my project.”

“Oh, wow,” Shiro said, impressed but also feeling a happy warmth spread through him. Now he definitely felt better about letting Pidge stay; she was using this appointment to help her with her showcase project. Especially since she showed him the registration form that she filled out under the name of Katie instead of Pidge.

Dr. Gunderson paused and looked up at Pidge for a moment, and Pidge shifted her weight back and forth uneasily, then Dr. Gunderson resumed what she was doing, saying, “Yes, and I think Katie has plenty of ideas to work with. Perhaps enough to get her own name on a patent.”

After a few minutes, Dr. Gunderson started to remove the wires. “Katie’s right, a software update is the biggest issue here. Adjusting the parameters for the pulse will help for a while, giving me and my tech guys enough time to figure out all the coding details. I can update the parameters today, if you’re available to do the stress-test this afternoon. I’m here until three.”

“I can do it today,” Shiro said with a nod.

“Then I just need to contact the cardiac department and ask if they have an opening,” Dr. Gunderson said.

Pidge leapt to her feet, saying, “I’ll go ask Sally to call over.”

“Thank you, Katie,” Dr. Gunderson said as Pidge left the room quickly. She shook her head slightly as the door closed, then she turned back to Shiro. “Thank you, for letting her stay. I know it sometimes makes you uncomfortable for others to be around. But I think this was good for the both of you.”

“I think so, too,” Shiro said.

Awkward as quiznak, but good.

*

A few hours later, Shiro was absolutely exhausted and in need of food and caffeine. The cardiac department did indeed have a slot open, which gave Shiro enough time to run back to his apartment for a change of clothes before heading to that appointment. The exam was over in less than an hour, and according to the technician was much easier than the usual stress test because they just needed his heart rate, not to do anything else such as do scans of his heart or inject dye into his circulatory system. He swung back by Dr. Gunderson’s temporary office, where she quickly adjusted the parameters and sent him on his way.

A quick shower and fresh clothes later, Shiro was heading to The Castle to meet up with Keith, Mistu and Shinji. He yawned and his empty stomach growled as he pushed open the door to the café and immediately heard his name being called.

He glanced over to see Mitsu walking over to him, leaving Keith and Shinji behind at the table they had picked out. Before Shiro could say a word to his sister, she had a fist in his gut. Shiro let out a cry of surprise, followed by a groan, wrapping his arms around his stomach, glaring at Mitsu. He was more surprised than truly hurt, but, “What the quiznak, Mitsu?”

“You absolute idiot.” Mitsu said, raising her fists and lightly hit him on the shoulders, left arm and torso. “ _Baka_. _Idiota_. _Baegchi_. _Dummkopf_. _Idioot_.”

“Did you seriously Google Translate the word for ‘idiot’ in different languages?” Shiro asked, frowning as he tried to bat away her hands.

“Yes, I did.” Mitsu said, putting her fists on her hips. “What were you thinking?”

“About the usual, Mitsy. Quidditch.” Shinji said as he came over, lightly smacking his older brother on the back of the head.

“Hey,” Shiro grunted irritably. “Didn’t I suffer enough last night with Haha and Chichi’s ‘we are so disappointed in you, Takashi, you need to take better care of yourself’ speech?”

“Nope,” Mitsu and Shinji said together.

Shiro let out a low growl, turning to glare over at the counter where Nyma was laughing at the siblings while Slav hid behind the pastry display, as if for some reason Mitsu and Shinji would come over and attack him. “They’re assaulting me, a loyal customer. Can you kick this riffraff out?”

“Yes, but I won’t,” Nyma said, smirking at him. “You screwed up, Shirogane. Face it, and accept the tough love.”

“If it makes you feel better, our tough love comes with soft love in the form of a large cup of tea and a blueberry muffin,” Shinji said, gesturing back to the table where the aforementioned items were and where Keith sat with his arms folded over his chest and a small smirk. Apparently Keith had decided that literally dragging him out of the bed this morning was enough tough love from him.

“I hope Pidge and Matt’s mom gave you hell for all this,” Keith said as Shiro took his seat.

“Let’s just say that it will never happen again. Ever.” Shiro said as he took a bite out of the muffin.

“Good.” Mistu said with a nod before taking a sip of her frappe.

“Who are the extra chairs for?” Shiro asked, noticing that there were two empty seats at the table.

“Lance and Hunk,” Keith answered. “They should be here any second now.”

Before Keith could even finish his sentence, the bell above the door jingled and Lance practically dragged in a sad-faced Hunk, who looked around the café gloomily. Lance led his roommate over, deposited him in a chair and said, “Hey, guys. I’m going to go place our orders. Hunk, what do you want?”

“My snuggle bunny…” Hunk said, resting his chin on the table, lower lip sticking out in a pout. 

Lance closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then said, “Caramel apple macchiato it is.” He opened his eyes, gave his boyfriend a meaningful look that was lost on Keith’s adopted siblings, then Lance went up to the counter.

“Hunk?” Mitsu said cautiously. “Everything okay?”

“No. Nothing’s okay.” Hunk mumbled, wrapping his arms over his head.

Keith sighed and explained, “Shay left this morning with Rax to go visit their grandmother for spring break.”

“Hunk, you’ve known Shay was going out of town for weeks now,” Shiro said.

“Yeah, but I got so stressed about midterms and the match that I forgot,” Hunk said, lifting his head some. “All I wanted after I finished my last test this morning was to go cuddle with Shay. And I called her only to learn that she had already crossed the state line into North Carolina.”

“And he’s been doing this mopey, pining thing ever since,” Lance said as he came to sit down between Hunk and Keith. He leaned over to give Keith a peck on the cheek, but Hunk just moaned.

“Stop being cute and couple-y and rubbing it in my face that my girlfriend isn’t here…” He said.

Lance rolled his eyes and gave Keith a kiss anyway.

The bell jingled again and this time Allura, Matt and Pidge walked in. Shiro felt his heart rate pick up, and realized—in retrospect—he could have saved the time of running on the treadmill in the cardiac department by simply standing too close to Pidge.

He then wondered if it was a coincidence that his prosthetic couldn’t keep up with his pulse after he met Pidge…

Pidge chose that moment to look over her shoulder from where she stood in line with Matt, and she waved at him with a friendly smile.

Well. One way or another, he was glad his arm could now keep up with his new crush and all the hormones that came with it.

“Takashi, are you aware that your face is redder than a stop sign?” Shinji asked, smirking.

Shiro practically jolted out of his chair at that. Keith, Shinji and Mitsu all smirked knowingly while Lance arched an eyebrow. Face hot, Shiro said, “Shinji, what are you planning to do while you’re home for spring break?”

“Avoid being on campus, mostly,” Shinji said. “Read recreationally. Pester my siblings. The usual.”

“We should do something altogether,” Lance suggested. He lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper and gestured to Hunk. “It might help you-know-who get his mind of the other you-know-who…”

“Not a bad idea,” Matt said as he dragged over a chair, sitting in it backwards as he joined the table.

“We’re all available,” Allura pointed out as she helped Nyma carry over a trays with drinks.

“What about work schedules?” Pidge asked.

“Father is closing the Café this week, for a new coat of paint and to replace some of the broken floor tiles, as well as some other maintenance things.” Allura explained.

“I’m off until Wednesday,” Keith said. “One of my coworkers wanted to pick up extra shifts and I was glad to let her.”

“I’m available until Tuesday morning,” Shiro said.

“So if we do something, we should do it this weekend.” Rolo commented.

“Now all that’s left is to figure out where to go and what to do.” Lance said, nodding.

“Ugh,” Mitsu said, frowning before she stuck her finger in the whipped cream of her drink. “I wish I had spring break too, but my break’s not for another month… I’d rather hang out with you guys than go to school.”

“Your time will come, little sister,” Shinji said. Mitsu simply pouted and sucked the whipped cream off her finger. “So, what should we do?”

“The beach is about a day’s drive away,” Nyma said. “We could leave tomorrow, stay two nights, have fun on the beach Sunday, then drive back on Monday.”

“Or we could do laser tag and other stuff nearby,” Lance suggested. “A staycation.”

“Or a movie marathon,” Pidge said.

“We could take the train to go to D.C. or New York.” Allura added.

“Sounds like we all have an idea, and a lot of great ones,” Shiro said. “Picking just one or two is going to be hard.”

“I have an idea!” Slav said from behind the counter, grabbing a handful of wrapped straws, a coffee cup and a Sharpie. He set everything on the table, then picked up one straw and a Sharpie, making a mark on the paper wrapping. “We draw a straw! Whoever picks the straw with the mark gets to choose what we do. This way, everyone’s ideas for spring break have an equal probability of being chosen!”

Everyone agreed and the straws were all placed in the cup, swirled around, then everyone drew a straw.

What started as a great idea for fun quickly made Shiro, Shinji and Lance’s faces turn into expressions of horror as Keith drew the marked straw.

Keith’s eyes brightened and he had a wide grin on his face as he looked up from the Sharpie marked straw.

“Keith, Keith, bro, please think this through completely,” Shinji begged.

“Keith, babe, please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” Lance pleaded.

“Please don’t do this to us,” Shiro added. “We’ll do anything except—”

But Keith stood up, throwing his fist in the air, fingers clenched around the straw.

“We’re going to Point Pleasant, West Virginia!” He exclaimed.

There was a series of groans that went around the table as well as some confused and concerned looks.

Mitsu was the only other person who was smiling.

“You know,” She said. “I’m suddenly really glad I have school on Monday morning…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost track of how many times I used the word 'quiznak' in this chapter...
> 
> And, yep, the team's going on a hunt for Mothman. God help them all.


	29. Pidge

Pidge hadn’t given much thought into how she would spend her first college spring break.

But whenever she did think about it, the plans definitely did not include looking for Mothman.

But yet, there she was, in the third seat of Lance’s mom’s mini-van, sitting between Slav and Shinji, Disney soundtracks blasting around her, on her way towards West Virginia for a weekend of camping and potentially spotting a cryptid.

Pidge looked beside her at Shinji. “So, uh, I’m guessing this trip is a frequent one your family has made.”

Shinji groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I like going camping. But I could do without the stay-up-all-night to look for shadows, and to be woken up by Keith whenever there’s a small noise and he’s so certain it’s some monster when it’s actually a bunny.”

“Is it always this Mothman he seeks?” Slav asked.

“Nah,” Shinji said. “One time, Dad needed to go to a conference in Seattle, and since it was summer we decided to make a vacation of it. So Mom and Dad said that we would do something each of us kids wanted to do while we were there. Takashi picked the flight museum, and Mitsu chose the aquarium, and I chose the Asian art museum… And Keith wanted to go outside of the city and go camping in a forest to look for Bigfoot. Since technically Mom and Dad didn’t say it had to be within the city, it got approved. That and my parents have a hard time saying no, especially to Keith. So we went on a Sasquatch Search.” He frowned slightly. “Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Mom sent us guys off and she and Mitsu stayed behind at the hotel and went shopping while we were gone. Come to think of it, Mom and Keith could have been in cahoots the entire time…”

Pidge laughed. “I’m guessing your mom doesn’t like camping.”

“That’s an understatement,” Shinji said. Then he called up to the front of the car, “Hey, Keith! Remember the one and only time we got Mom to go camping with us?”

From the front passenger seat, Keith turned around and nodded. “Yeah. She thought we were just teasing her there being no bathrooms in the woods. When we got home, she swore she’d never go camping again. Also, she fought a Grizzly Bear and won.”

“Wait a second,” Rolo said, looking up from his phone. “Your mom fought a bear and won?”

“Pidge is taller than your mom,” Nyma said. “And not by much. How did she fight a bear and win?”

“Jury’s still out on that one, but the two top theories are Ushiro-goshi and O-soto-gari.” Keith said.

“U-what now?” Lance said, briefly glancing at Keith before turning his eyes back onto the interstate in front of him.

“Judo throws,” Shinji explained. “Mom competed in judo before us kids came along. Well, that’s not entirely accurate; she did her last competition a few months after Takashi was born, then retired. But, back to the bear. We didn’t see what happened, just the dazed bear on the ground behind her.”

“Still, the probabilities…” Slav mumbled and then was quiet for several minutes. He grimaced slightly and turned to Shinji. “I have done the calculations several times. Your mother has defied the outcome probabilities.”

Shinji just nodded solemnly. “Sounds about right.”

They got to the campsite about an hour later. Shiro and Shinji exchanged a glance with each other and led the setup of the site while Keith organized equipment meticulously on a picnic blanket, muttering to himself.

“So, how exactly does this work?” Matt asked as he picked up tent poles.

“Well, you’ve got to thread the poles through the holes of the tent, and—” Shiro started to say.

“No, I meant the whole ‘Search for Mothman’ thing.” Matt said. “Believe it or not, I understand the concept of putting together a tent, Shiro.”

“Yes, you understand the concept, Matt, and that’s why it’s mine and Dad’s job to put up the tents every time we go camping.” Pidge said, smirking at him. Matt stuck his tongue out at her as Lance and Rolo laughed.

“Usually what happens is we divide and conquer,” Shiro said. “We walk about half a mile from the campsite, then walk in a circle with equipment.”

“Video cameras, recorders, flashlights, and whatever else Keith thinks we absolutely need.” Shinji said.

“Tonight, we’ll be working in teams,” Keith announced suddenly as he approached the others. Keith then pulled out a crumpled receipt from his jacket pocket and Pidge saw that he had written something on the back of the fast-food receipt from when they stopped from lunch (which Pidge thought was much longer than one person should order, and definitely much more than one person should eat). “Three teams of three, and one team of two. Carefully chosen—by me—in order to spread out the various skill sets needed to successfully find and record Mothman tonight.” He cleared his throat and read out the teams.

Keith, Lance and Hunk.

Allura, Slav and Shinji.

Rolo, Nyma and Matt.

And…

Pidge quickly turned to focus on her tent pole as Keith said, “And Pidge and Shiro.” She felt her face heat.

_Great. Just great. This is just great…_

She had actually hoped for some time away from Shiro, despite the close quarters while camping. She had hoped more time together surrounded by their friends would smooth away any residual awkwardness from the previous day’s appointment. Despite all of Shiro’s assurances that she could stay and he was fine with her being involved, she could tell he wasn’t being entirely truthful. She was also vividly remembering how Shiro had avoided her when she had only seen his arm, let alone touched it. Now she had not only seen him without the prosthetic while it was adjusted, but helped in making those adjustments. She couldn’t even imagine what would be Shiro’s reaction if he knew she had helped make his prosthetic.

But Keith wasn’t there. As far as Pidge knew, he had no idea what happened at Shiro’s appointment or who else was there other than Dr. Gunderson.

She said nothing, though, and neither did Shiro.

And that’s how she ended up spending her spring break in a dark forest in West Virginia, clutching a flashlight in one hand and a video camera in the other, alone with Shiro.

“So…” Shiro said awkwardly, swinging his own flashlight back and forth along their trail. “It’s, uh, a nice night…”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, looking up at the clear sky, filled with stars. “You can’t see all these stars back at school. You can see the constellations easily.”

“It’s crazy, how our ancestors looked up at the sky and played this massive game of connect-the-dots.” Shiro said. “And then told stories related to the pictures that they saw in the stars.”

Pidge smiled. “Matt used to do that with my freckles. But Mom and Dad were a little less impressed with the stories he came up with to explain why his three year old sister was covered in permanent marker streaks.”

She shouldn’t have said that. Because now she couldn’t stop grinning widely, snickering slightly to herself.

The only words in her mind were “Magic freckle.”

“Magic what now?”

Whoops. She hadn’t realized she said that out-loud…

“It’s… It’s nothing,” Pidge said, quickly sobering up. “Sorry. Hadn’t meant to actually say that…”

“Oh,” Shiro said. They were quiet again, and Pidge mentally cursed herself but also was grateful for the dark that hid her blushing cheeks.

_Stupid brain, stupid Magic Freckle, stupid mouth, stupid—_

“Um, Pidge? Can I ask you a question?” Shiro asked quietly, jarring Pidge out of her eternal monologue.

“Uh, yeah, fire away,” Pidge said. “What’s up?”

Shiro hesitated, the beam of his flashlight lingering on a tree for a moment, then he said, “I just… I wanted to know if…” He cut himself off with a grimace and tried again, “You read my patient file? The one your mom has for me?”

Pidge blinked in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that question.

“I read some of it,” She admitted. “Um, but only the parts I needed. About some of the first trial runs and more recent adjustments and stuff. And Mom purposefully gave it to me so that that’s all I got; patient privacy and all that. I didn’t even know it was your file when she gave it to me, since the name was redacted.”

“So…” Shiro said slowly, processing. “You… You don’t know how I lost my arm in the first place?”

Pidge shook her head. “No. For my research, those details aren’t important.”

She watched as Shiro’s shoulders visibly lost tension. “Oh. Okay then.”

Pidge licked her lips, then said, “And, Shiro? If your name was on the file, if those details were included in what I was given… I wouldn’t have read them anyway.”

“Because it isn’t important to your research?”

“Because if you wanted me to know how you lost your arm, I know you’d tell me. And if you don’t, then you won’t. And I’m okay with that, either way. It’s none of my business one way or another.”

He was quiet for a long time, and Pidge worried that she had said something wrong, but then he smiled at her shyly and said, “Thank you, for that. I can’t… I won’t make any promises, but maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

“If you want to tell me, I’ll listen,” Pidge promised. “But only when and if you’re ready.”

Shiro opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by a rustling noise in the wood line to their left. They both jumped, quickly swinging their flashlights around to see the beams hit glowing eyes in a bush. Pidge grabbed hold of Shiro’s arm, and the arm she clutched onto swung out in front of her protectively. With her other hand, Pidge quickly fumbled to turn the video camera onto ‘record’.

Her heart was thumping, she could barely breathe, and…

Pidge and Shiro both screamed as there was more rustling and the thing in the bushes jumped out in front of them.

It was…

Not big. Not moth-like. No wings at all. And the eyes weren’t red.

Instead, it was small, brown, and had a little nose that twitched, big ears, and a short and stubby, fluffy white tail.

A very common rabbit paused on the dirt path in front of them, tilted his head slightly, twitched his nose back and forth a few times, then hopped along on his merry way.

Pidge looked up at Shiro, lips twitching into a grin. He looked down her, the corner of his mouth lifting.

And then they burst into peals of laughter.

“We got scared by a bunny,” Pidge snickered.

“The most terrifying creature in the whole world,” Shiro said through his own laughter.

“We cannot tell anyone, or they’re not going to let us live it down.” Pidge said.

“Too late for that, they probably heard us scream.” Shiro said. “We’ll just have to tell them we got attacked by the Legendary Black Beast of Arrrggghhh instead of Mothman.”

“With vicious teeth a mile wide!” Pidge said, laughing again. She put her fingers in front of her mouth to mimic rabbit teeth. “Nasty, big, pointy teeth!”

“And us without a Holy Hand Grenade!” Shiro exclaimed. His gray eyes suddenly sparked with mischief. “Or maybe we had a magic freckle all along.”

Pidge couldn’t hold back the snorts of laughter, nearly doubling over. It was somehow funnier when Shiro said those words while sober and following a near-death encounter with a Cottontail than when he kept repeating it while drunk.

“Okay, now I really got to know what it is,” Shiro said.

“N-no, you d-don’t,” Pidge said, still laughing and clutching her stomach.

“Yeah, come on, I’m dying to know now,” Shiro said. “What’s the magic freckle?”

Pidge giggled and said, “It’s the freckle that gives me superpowers when it’s poked.”

“You have a freckle that gives you superpowers when it’s poked?” Shiro repeated, smirking slightly. “Did you come up with this, or did Matt?”

Pidge’s grin grew so big her face hurt. “Nope. You did.”

Shiro’s face instantly fell and his eyes widened. “I did what now?”

“It happened a couple of weeks ago, when you were drunk,” Pidge explained. “You kept poking my freckles, because you said that there was a magic one that gave me superpowers, which Drunk Shiro said I needed because apparently I was small and Drunk Shiro worried about me. Then you said you’d teach me self-defense, quoted Shakespeare, then immediately passed out.”

Shiro groaned and ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs. “I’m so sorry, Pidge, that you had to put up with me, and that I got in your personal space.”

“At the time, it was funny,” Pidge said. “And you backed off when I asked you to. No harm, no foul.”

“Still.” Shiro said. “I’m really, really sorry…”

“Shiro, it’s fine,” Pidge insisted. “And I haven’t told anyone else about it, if that’s something else you’re worried about.”

“No,” Shiro said. “Well, yes. But, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Pidge said, poking him in the side. “Or, if you feel some noble need to make it up to me for no real reason, I’m still interested in those self-defense lessons you promised.”

“Alright,” Shiro said with a nod. “That I can deliver on. Well, to some extent. Want to head back to camp?”

“Yeah, after the encounter with the Legendary Black Beast of Arrrggghhh, I don’t think I could handle actually finding Mothman.”

“Same,” Shiro said as they turned around and headed back towards their campsite. “Keith’s going to have to hope the others come through.”

“Yep,” Pidge said. “We’ve paid our dues. We’ve got, what, five years scared off of our lives at the hands of one bunny, minding his own business, doing his own bunny things, going about on his own merry bunny way?”

“Five years at least,” Shiro said. “I don’t know about you, but I plan on getting into my sleeping bag as soon as we get back and not leaving it until after the sun rises.”

“Oh, same,” Pidge said. “Also, what did you mean by you can deliver on the self-defense thing to some extent?”

“I gave it some thought, and I’m not the best person to teach you. But I know who is,” Shiro explained. “And that person would be my mother.”

“Oh yeah, Shinji and Keith mentioned earlier that she competed in judo,” Pidge said. “And that she won a fight with a bear.”

“That poor bear…” Shiro said softly. “I hope it’s okay.”

“Will your mom teach me how to throw a Grizzly, too?” Pidge asked.

Shiro chuckled. “Probably not. But she is an accredited self-defense instructor. And she’s holding a class this weekend, if you’re interested.”

“Yes, I’m definitely interested!” Pidge said. “How much is it, when, and where?”

“It’s at the local YMCA on Saturday afternoon, but Haha told me to tell you to not worry about the cost.” Shiro said.

“Alright, I’m in,” Pidge said. “Thank you.”

“As soon as we’re back near civilization, I’ll call her and she can add you to the class list.” Shiro said as they arrived back at their campsite, where Keith instantly ran up to them, eyes wide.

“Did you hear that?” He asked excitedly.

“Hear what?” Pidge asked.

“There was a loud sound earlier, almost like a scream,” Keith said, grinning. “It’s a Mothman call, alright! And it sounded like it was coming from the direction you two were! So? You had to have heard it! But did you see it?”

Pidge and Shiro glanced at each other, then slowly turned to Keith. Despite their joking, neither was quite ready to admit to the fact that they had screamed at the sight of a rabbit in the woods. Because they were both quite aware that their friends and brothers would never, ever let them live that down and it would be the only thing they heard about for the rest of the trip.

“Uh…” Shiro said awkwardly. “No. We didn’t.”

“Really?” Keith asked.

“Really,” Pidge said nodding. Then she spread out her arms and yawned. “Oh, boy, it’s late, I’m bushed, night…” Then she quickly headed for her tent.

“Good night!” Shiro said as followed suit, leaving behind a very confused Keith who was nowhere near close to finding Mothman.

As Pidge slid into her sleeping bag, she was fairly certain that—after tonight—she didn’t need any more scares or rare creatures in her life.

The Legendary Black Beast of Arrrggghhh from Point Pleasant was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't understand the references to the Legendary Black Beast of Arrrggghhh and the Holy Hand Grenade, it's from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail". The scenes in question are on YouTube if you want more context.


	30. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween/Celtic New Year!

Shiro woke up to the sounds of giggling outside the tent, along with Shinji’s voice. He yawned and rubbed his eyes briefly, pulling over his prosthetic and shoes. 

He tried to be as quiet as possible and not wake up Keith, who was so far down in his sleeping bag, the only part of him visible was just a few strands of his hair on the ‘pet’ part of his hippo Pillow Pet sticking out past the top of the red sleeping bag. Shiro smiled softly at the sounds of Keith’s soft breathing from inside, wondering how late he had stayed up the night before and which poor unfortunate soul had stayed up with him. He suspected the answer was Lance, but also knew that Keith’s boyfriend knew exactly where to draw the line.

However, Shiro’s smile quickly faded when he opened the tent just in time to hear Shinji say, “—so then Takashi gives her this really shy look and apologizes for knocking into her, but says—laying on this thick accent that he lost two years before—‘In our country, sliding down the halls in our socks is an important ritual for cleansing the mind and the soul. Please forgive us for trying to hold on to our culture in this scary Western world’.”

“Oh my God,” Pidge laughed. “And she believed that?”

“Well she certainly never fact-checked it,” Shinji said, also laughing. “She was so flustered and apologized for interrupting the ritual.”

“Don’t believe a word he says, Pidge,” Shiro said, stepping out of the tent, grabbing one of the camping stools and taking a seat beside the camp stove between Pidge and his brother. “Shinji is a dirty rotten liar who likes to make up embarrassing stories about me.”

“Hey, I haven’t even gotten to the really embarrassing ones yet,” Shinji said, grinning. “Like the time you ran around the beach butt-naked and tried to fight the waves with a piece of driftwood—”

“I was _two_! And you weren’t even born yet!” Shiro said, sputtering slightly, face red as Pidge tried hard to smother her giggles.

“—Or how you were absolutely the cutest cow in your kindergarten play, but forgot your one line so that instead of saying ‘ _mō mō_ ’, so you panicked and said ‘ _nya!_ ’, then got so embarrassed you hid behind the prop bush for the rest of the play.”

“ _You_ were two, you were there, but there’s no way you remember that,” Shiro said, scowling, eyes narrowing.

“I am simply very fortunate that our parents video-recorded all of our ‘important’ life moments then, aren’t I?” Shinji said, smirking.

Shiro growled. Quiznak, he should have known this was going to happen, that as soon as Shinji got a moment alone with Pidge, he’d do his obligatory role as annoying kid brother and spill all of Shiro’s embarrassing stories to his crush.

But just when Shiro thought that his presence and dark look might have ended Shinji’s reign, his brother opened his mouth once more: “Hey, Pidge, did you know that when Takashi first met your mom, he pretended to not speak or understand any English? Like, absolutely refused to acknowledge the English language existed.”

“What, seriously?” Pidge said, glancing at Shiro, who groaned internally.

_You’re dead, Shinji._ He thought.

“Yeah,” Shinji said. “It really pissed off our parents, especially since Mom’s English isn’t the best and she was the only one who could be there to translate. But apparently your mom just put up with it for about a week, and then one day she apparently looked him dead in the eye and said _‘tsundere baka’_ , and told him that they could either communicate in English, or she would teach herself Japanese using anime, and that she was certain that neither of them wanted that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mom so amused, or Takashi so stunned. But, obviously, he chose the first option.”

Pidge laughed, pressing her hand to her mouth to smother the sound. “Oh, God, this explains a lot…” She said. “I’m so sorry, Shiro.”

“For what?” Shiro asked, brow furrowing at her.

Still giggling slightly, Pidge explained, “One day, Mom came home from work, told me to stop doing my homework and tell her all the Japanese words I knew with their translations, and watch subbed anime with her. I had no idea what she had planned, and frankly I was too afraid at the time to ask. But now I know, and, sorry, but this is kind of funny…”

“Well, I’m glad someone thinks it’s funny,” Shiro mumbled, grabbing the kettle and going over to fill it with water while thinking of ways to murder Shinji. 

Sure, his family thought the whole thing was funny mostly because at the time they were all frustrated with him, but for Shiro it was beyond just embarrassing. Mostly because he hated the person he was when he first met Dr. Gunderson. He hated how angry he was, how he had pushed away both the people who loved him and the people who were trying to help him. Hated how childish and churlish he had acted, hated how he had let dark thoughts take over his mind and heart. He had wanted nothing to do with Dr. Gunderson and her prosthetics the first time she stepped into his hospital room. He hadn’t wanted _a_ arm, he wanted _his_ arm and nothing else would do.

Just thinking about where he was two years ago—physically, emotionally, mentally—filled him with guilt and shame. It wasn’t a time in his life he wanted to remember.

But he was lucky, he guessed. No one—least of all Dr. Gunderson—had given up on him.

Shiro went back over to the camp-stove, turning it on and putting the kettle on top. As he was doing so, Shinji stood up and said, “Well, I’m going to go see what we brought for breakfast.” He pointed towards the car, where they were storing their food. “I’ll be over there.”

Shiro sat down beside the small stove and Pidge said, “I’m sorry.”

“For teaching your mother how to call me a _tsundere baka_?” Shiro asked, glancing at her. “Which, admittedly, I did kind of deserve…”

“No,” Pidge said. “Sorry for laughing. It upset you. You looked mad, and you left suddenly. You’re upset, aren’t you?”

“More with myself and Shinji than you,” Shiro admitted, giving her a small smile. “Don’t worry.”

“You’re still upset, though,” Pidge said, frowning.

“Not with you, though.” Shiro reminded. “Want tea? I put plenty of water in the kettle.”

“Sure.” Pidge said. “I’ll go grab a cup and a teabag.” 

She stood up and went over to the car as Shinji came back, sitting down and offering Shiro a granola bar. Shiro only lifted an eyebrow at him. Shinji sighed and said, “I’m sorry. I crossed a line and I shouldn’t have. I’m really, really sorry, Takashi.”

Shiro took the granola bar—a peace offering, he realized—and said, “I accept your apology, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t expect revenge.”

“Oh, I knew that was a given,” Shinji said. He smiled as he watched Pidge climb into the back of the van, her legs sticking out, kicking slightly as she searched for food. “You really like her, huh?”

Shiro fiddled with the wrapper of his granola bar, whispering, “Yeah. I do.”

“You should tell her, then,” Shinji said. “Because I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Shiro said, frowning. “What if you’re wrong?”

“Are you seriously going to let the fear of rejection hold you back from finding out?”

“Yes, actually.”

Shinji rolled his eyes. “To each his own, Takashi.”

Shiro ignored him as the kettle began to whistle, taking it off the tea and pouring water into his cup. Pidge came over with her own breakfast—which consisted of an apple and individual cups of peanut butter apparently—and tea cup at hearing the sound of the kettle.

“Sorry it took so long,” She said. “The peanut butter was buried a little deeper into the food boxes than I thought.”

“Water just finished boiling anyway,” Shiro said, filling up her cup, then Shinji’s.

The three were soon joined by some of the others, Allura and Nyma coming out of the tent they had shared with Pidge while Matt stumbled out, yawning. Eventually everyone was awake, Keith stumbling out of the tent last, yawning and his arms wrapped tightly around his Pillow Pet, burying his face in it as soon as he sat down.

“How late did you two stay up?” Hunk asked Lance, who looked just as tired as Keith.

“Way too late,” Lance answered, yawning. He narrowed his eyes slightly at Keith and said, “He’s lucky he’s cute…”

“He’s lucky you’re gullible,” Allura pointed out.

“That’s fair,” Lance said with a shrug, stuffing a granola bar in his mouth.

“So, what exactly are we supposed to do with ourselves now?” Nyma asked. “Can’t hunt Mothman in the daytime.”

“Actually, Slav, Allura, and I found something great to help us pass the time,” Shinji said.

“What’s that?” Rolo asked as he unpeeled a banana.

“A waterfall!” Allura said, smiling. “It has a shallow pool at the bottom, too, so we can play in that some.”

“That sounds fun,” Matt said.

Everyone ate and got ready to go, which included most of the group putting on swimsuits to play in. Shiro was the only one who chose to go in just jeans and a t-shirt, planning on sitting out. He wasn’t supposed to swim with the prosthetic on, and he didn’t feel comfortable enough taking it off. He barely felt comfortable just wearing his **I’m just here for the XP** t-shirt without longer sleeves underneath. Besides, he had just gotten his prosthetic working correctly again, and he wasn’t risking getting scolded again by splashing around.

So while everyone started taking off unnecessary clothes and shoes when they got to the waterfall, Shiro started looking for a rock to sit on to watch. He had just found the perfect spot when he heard from behind him Lance exclaim, “Oh God! I’m blind!”

Shiro turned around to see Matt throw his balled-up t-shirt in Lance’s face, saying, “Very funny, Lance. We get it, we’re white.”

“Yeah, but there’s white and then there’s _white_ ,” Nyma pointed out. “Have either of you actually stood in direct sunlight?”

“No way,” Pidge said as she folded up her shorts. “We burn too easily.”

Shiro felt his cheeks heat the moment he laid eyes on Pidge.

Oh… quiznak she was pretty.

She was dressed in a sleek pale-green one-piece suit, leaving her short arms and legs exposed, all pale skin and freckles. Lots and lots of freckles, dusted over her shoulders and down her arms, all over her thighs…

Pidge suddenly bent down to put her shorts on top of her shoes.

It left very little to the imagination.

Shiro turned away. Now was a perfect time to focus on his rock. He liked that rock. That was a nice rock. Was it considered a boulder? 

Shiro sank down onto the edge of the rock with a sigh, listening to the sound of splashing as his friends got into the pool and enjoying the mist from the waterfall, watching it cascade into the water below.

He barely even noticed Slav had joined him until he decided it was safe to turn back again.

“Slav!” Shiro exclaimed, jumping slightly, unconsciously putting his hand over his heart. “Where’d you come from?”

“Pakistan,” Slav said with a small shrug. “To be specific, the city of Karachi in the Sindh province. My apologies, I thought you knew this…”

“No, I knew that, sorry,” Shiro said, shaking his head. “I didn’t know you were there and it startled me.”

“Oh,” Slav said, blinking. “Apologies, then.”

“You didn’t want to get in the water?” Shiro asked.

Slav shuddered, wrapping his arms around his legs. “There are realities in which I drown because, in those realities, I never learned to swim.”

“Well, what about this reality? Did you learn to swim in this reality?”

“I can’t remember!” Slav said, curling in tighter on himself. “There are infinite possibilities!”

“But, what about your experiment about testing probabilities in other realities?” Shiro asked.

“Shiro, there is quite a large leap from handling small amounts of hot water and inserting oneself into a body of unfiltered water.” Slav said, clicking his tongue some, giving Shiro a look that clearly said ‘are you stupid?’.

“Right, sorry,” Shiro said, rolling his eyes slightly.

They were quiet for a few minutes, watching their friends play, then Slav said, “I’m right, you know.”

“About what?” Shiro asked.

“That things in this reality will work out in your favor,” Slav said. “I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between you and Shinji this morning. The probabilities are favorable for you getting a pleasant response from telling Pidge about your feelings for her.”

Shiro groaned. “Not you, too… Look, I’ve already messed up with her, and it won’t do either of us good to—”

“You have not let me finish,” Slav said sharply, which took Shiro by surprise. “I understand your reasoning, your hesitancy. I am not going to tell you that you should ignore those reasons. Predominately because I know that you won’t do so, but also because I think that there are reasons you won’t acknowledge. At least, not out-loud. And those reasons, Shiro… You want Pidge to have something that no longer exists.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shiro said, turning his face away.

“Then let me be more accurate,” Slav said. “You want Pidge to have some _one_ who no longer exists.”

Shiro felt himself tense up and he said again, through gritted teeth, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Slav said. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I don’t know why, though. You’re who Pidge knows and cares for. Who we all know and care for.” Slav gestured vaguely to the pool below, where the rest of the team was splashing around. “We would not be here, would not know each other, if we did not have one thing in common: you. This you. Not the you who you were before.”

Before…

Shiro swallowed, staring down at the palm of his prosthetic, the material just reflective enough that he could see a distorted reflection of himself, with the scar across his face and the white hair that dangled in front of his eyes.

Not the person he was…

He squeezed his eyes shut, flinching at the sudden, silent blasts in his ears, stomach churning and head fogging. He was spinning, spinning out of control…

No. No, no, no, no…

He was not doing this today, not having a PTSD attack today.

_One two three in…_

_One two three out…_

“—iro? Shiro, are you alright?”

That was Slav’s voice, full of concern and a little bit of fear.

Slav his friend.

Slav with his OCD and alternate realities.

Slav… who was right.

Shiro opened his eyes, pushing himself to his feet, turning and walking away. “I need some water.”

Shiro climbed down to where Hunk’s backpack was leaning against a tree, full of water bottles and snacks. He quickly pulled out a bottle, opened it, and drained half of it in one go. He took deep breaths, leaning against a tree facing the hiking trail, trying to center himself.

He didn’t know who he was. He died the day he lost his arm, and this was some ghost that had taken up residence in his body. Everything had changed in a moment. He had changed in a moment.

He wished he hadn’t.

He wished he could turn back time, that he could have saved himself…

That Takashi Shirogane would have been perfect for Pidge. For anyone. Was perfect.

Now he was just a shell of that Takashi Shirogane. An imposter, a fake.

He was—

“Shiro?”

He turned around to see Pidge standing there, dripping wet, holding a bottle of water. “Oh. Hey, Pidge. What’s up?”

“You okay?” Pidge asked, her brow furrowing.

“Yeah, just… Just thinking,” Shiro said. “You?”

Pidge nodded slightly, then held up the water bottle. “Can you open this for me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro said, handing her his water bottle in order to take hers. “Yeah, I can do that. No problem.”

“Thanks,” Pidge said once the cap was off. She put the bottle to her lips and drank. Shiro watched her, watched as river water dripped from her hair onto her neck, running down her skin and…

Shiro blushed and turned away as the drop of water ran down the top of Pidge’s swimsuit, more than likely making its way right between her…

“Your face is really red.” Pidge commented. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” Shiro said quickly. “Um, it’s just… Heat…”

Pidge nodded. Then her eyes widened slightly and she said, “Oh, you didn’t put sunscreen on, did you?”

“Um, did I… No, actually,” Shiro said, blinking. “Um, how did you…?”

“I don’t smell it on you,” Pidge explained. Her nose wrinkled. “I hate the scent of sunscreen. But I hate getting sunburned more, so I suck it up.”

“Yeah, getting sunburned is the worst,” Shiro agreed.

“Then why didn’t you put on sunscreen?” Pidge asked.

“Well, same reason I’m not in the water,” Shiro said, raising his hand slightly. “Just got this fixed; don’t want to break it again by getting it water damaged or get sunscreen in the little crevices.”

Pidge blinked, then turned around to find her backpack, digging through it to pull out the bottle of sunscreen.

“Go sit down,” She said, popping open the lid. “I’ll put it on your arm and face.”

“You don’t have to, especially since you don’t like the smell,” Shiro said, feeling his cheeks heat again. “I’ll be fine. Besides, clouds are moving in, it’d be a waste.”

“You’re already red, you’ll just get more sunburned,” Pidge pointed out. “And it’ll hurt a lot more. And the UV rays from the sun can still pass through the clouds. It won’t take too long.”

Quiznak…

He couldn’t just say that his face was the color of a ripe tomato because he couldn’t handle the sight of her in a swimsuit. Nor could he resist her brown-sugar eyes, beckoning…

Quiznak, he was screwed.

“Okay…” He said, voice tight as he sat down on a log beside Pidge, who squeezed the sunscreen into one of her hands. She set aside the bottle then took his left arm in her free hand, then gently started to put the cold sunscreen on his warm flesh, gently rubbing it in from his wrist on up, gingerly twisting his arm to get the underside. He had never quite realized how small her hands were, or how soft her skin was…

He wasn’t sure when his brain had transitioned its views of Pidge from ‘aesthetically pleasing’ to ‘cute’ to, well, whatever this was. Attraction of some sort, he assumed.

All he knew was that Pidge’s smile made his heart beat faster, and that his ears loved hearing her talk, and that Pidge’s fingertips against his skin felt so good, and he just generally became a huge mess around her.

“Here, look up a bit,” Pidge said, raising her hands. Shiro did as instructed and Pidge smeared the leftover sunscreen on his face, gently rubbing his cheeks with her fingers. Then, she nodded and smiled, pleased with her work. “There, that should do it.”

“Thanks.” Shiro said, smiling shyly at her.

“No problem,” Pidge said, her smile becoming suddenly shy.

They sat there, silently staring at each other. Pidge opened her mouth to say something…

“Am I the only one concerned about how dark those clouds look?”

Shiro and Pidge both jumped back at the voice that was suddenly in both of their ears, turning to see Slav crouched beside them, eyes on the sky.

“The forecast said it was just supposed to be cloudy,” Pidge answered. “We should be okay.” She stood up, her cheeks flushed slightly and said, “Um, though we probably want to head back to camp soon. For lunch and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “For lunch and stuff.”

Pidge nodded and headed back towards the waterfall. Shiro groaned and put his head in his hands.

_Thanks a lot, Slav…_

“Was it something I said?” Slav asked, brow furrowed.

An hour later, they were back at camp and everyone was in dry clothes, working on making lunch. Well, most of the group was focused on making food. Keith sat in a chair with his laptop on his lap, oversized headphones on his head, intently focused on analyzing the footage from the night before.

“If nothing else, he now has a lot of videos of peaceful nights in a forest,” Rolo commented. “That’s good. He can put that on YouTube. Call it ‘Inspirational’ or something.”

“He’ll most likely put it on YouTube to get a second opinion on whether or not that tree is actually a tree.” Shinji pointed out.

Shiro glanced over his shoulder at hearing Keith make a strange sound, frowning slightly at seeing Keith doubled-over slightly, one arm around his stomach, hand on his laptop lid.

“Keith, you okay?” Hunk asked.

“Holy Hand Grenade…” Was the only discernable thing Keith said before he went back to snickering.

Shiro felt his face drain and his eyes widen as he looked across the camp at Pidge, whose eyes were also wide.

“I forgot to turn off the camera!” She whispered in horror.

Keith’s laughter got louder and he about nearly fell off the stool as he yelled out “MAGIC FRECKLE!”

“The what now?” Lance said, looking very concerned for his boyfriend. “Babe, are you okay? Did Mothman possess you or something?”

“Black Beast of Arrrggghhh!” Keith got out, unplugging his headphones and handing his laptop to Lance before doubling over on himself laughing.

Fortunately for Shiro and Pidge, before Lance could rewind the video to figure out what Keith was talking about, Matt jumped up from his own seat, eyes wide as he stared at his phone.

“We gotta go, now.” He said.

“Matt, what’s wrong?” Nyma asked.

“Dad just sent me at text… Apparently instead of it being just cloudy today, this place is supposed to get dumped with a crap ton of rain,” Matt said. “We’ve got to—”

There was a boom of thunder overhead.

Matt didn’t need to say anything else, everyone started scrambling.

They were soaking wet when they finally got the cars repacked and headed for the town.

“Next year, we’re going to the beach for spring break and party like normal college students,” Allura declared as they warmed up in a café with coffee, tea, and food that wasn’t cooked on a camp stove.

Her declaration was whole-heartedly, unanimously agreed upon.

“So…” Keith said. “Mothman Museum?”


	31. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Winter Solstice to everyone in the Northern Hemisphere!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait between chapters; I did NaNoWriMo last month (and won!) so that ate up most of my writing time and energy.

Pidge narrowed her eyes as her phone buzzed again on the desk. She sighed but checked the group chat message, frowning at the picture of a little white bunny with the caption **KEEP CALM. IT CAN PROBABLY SMELL FEAR**.

She sighed and quickly put her phone away again.

As she suspected, no one was going to let her or Shiro live down the Legendary Black Beast of Arrrggghhh they had encountered in West Virginia. Or the Magic Freckle thing. The group chat had been filled with rabbit and super-hero related puns and memes for the last four days with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

_Stupid camping trip, stupid Mothman, stupid bunny, stupid camera, stupid—_

She jumped at hearing her phone ring, grabbing it and frowning at the unknown number which meant one of two things: a wrong number or a spam call.

She hoped it was the former as she answered it cautiously. “Hello?”

“Hi!” Said a cheerful voice. “Is this Pidge Holt?”

Pidge’s frown deepened. “Uh, who is this?”

“It’s Mitsu Shirogane,” The voice—definitely Mitsu, now that she heard it again—said. “Takashi gave me your number.”

“Oh, okay,” Pidge said, still a little confused.

“I needed to give you some information about the class on Saturday,” Mitsu continued. “I’m my mom’s teaching assistant, since her English is pretty decent, but sometimes there’s questions or phrases she doesn’t get or she doesn’t know how to explain things in another way. So I guess I’m more of a translator than assistant, but, whatever, it works.”

“Oh!” Pidge said with realization. That made sense. “Alright, so, what do I need to know?”

“Well, it’s a two-hour class that starts at one on Saturday afternoon,” Mitsu said. “Wear comfy gym clothes and sneakers, bring a water bottle and snack. You know where the YMCA is in town?”

“Yep, the one near the elementary school, right?” Pidge asked.

“That’s the one!” Mitsu said. “Well, that’s all the official stuff you need to know. But, um, I was also wondering if I could potentially ask you for a favor?”

“Sure,” Pidge said before she really thought it through. “What’s up?”

“I’m having a little trouble in my physics class,” Mitsu explained. “And I’ve got a test on Monday that I’m kind of worried about. None of my brothers took the class in high school, nor are taking it at college, and my parents have tried to help but we’re not getting anywhere. I was wondering if there was any chance you knew anything about high school physics and could maybe tutor me?”

“I definitely know about high school physics, and would be glad to help you!” Pidge said. Physics had been one of her favorite classes and she, Matt and their father frequently did sample problems for fun. (She was well aware that this simply elevated her nerd status and did not care in the slightest.)

“Thank you so much!” Mitsu said. “How much do you charge by the hour?”

“Oh, no, I rarely tutor and I don’t charge…”

“Well that doesn’t seem right.”

“I couldn’t,” Pidge insisted. “Besides, Shiro said your mom said for me not to worry about paying for the class this weekend, so…”

“Haha loves to teach and would do it for free if she could,” Mitsu insisted. “But I have an idea. I’ll need to check with my parents that it’s okay, but how about after the class on Saturday, you come over to my house, we’ll do physics together, and you can eat dinner with us!”

“Oh, um, I wouldn’t want to intrude…” Pidge said quickly, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Nonsense!” Mitsu insisted. “Hang on, just a second, let me ask!” Pidge heard muffled yelling in Japanese and then a few moments later Mitsu rather exuberantly said, “My mom loves the idea! Just bring a change of clothes for after! Hang on, Mom’s calling me—” Mitsu paused, then asked “Oh, you’re not allergic to anything, are you? Mom wants to know.”

“No allergies, but really, you don’t have to—”

“Great! So we’ll see you Saturday at one! Bye!”

Before Pidge could get out another word, Mitsu had hung up. Pidge sat there, listening to the dial tone for a few moments.

Whelp.

Apparently she was going to be having dinner with her crush’s family, no big deal…

*******

By three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Pidge felt both exhausted and empowered.

All skepticism regarding the “Mrs. Shirogane threw a bear on a family camping trip” story was gone. Pidge was certain that if she did this every other weekend, she, too, could grab a full grown Grizzly and throw it in the opposite direction from her kids.

Looking around the room at the YMCA, Pidge saw that she wasn’t the only one who felt the same way. The participants in the class ranged in age—from the two fifth grade girls, to a few teenage and college-aged girls, to a few moms, and a trio of grandmas that were already eagerly planning on showing their granddaughters everything they had learned. It was interesting group to watch as well as learn along with.

“Mrs. Shirogane?” One of the high school girls said as they helped move the mats they had used back into the corner. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course!” Mrs. Shirogane said brightly.

“Well, um,” The girl said. “What do you do, other than this?”

Mrs. Shirogane paused, titled her head in consideration, then nodded and said, “I am a housewife and mother to my three strong, handsome sons and my beautiful, talented and equally strong daughter.”

“Which would be me!” Mitsu said, grinning.

“Well, then, what did you do back in Japan?” One of the older participants asked. “Before you had kids? Were you a cop or something like that?”

“I teach kindergarten, back in Japan, before Takashi was born,” Mrs. Shirogane answered with another nod.

No one was quite sure what to make of that response or how A got to B, but the arrival of the mothers of the fifth graders prevented anyone from asking further questions.

“Thanks again for helping me out, Pidge,” Mitsu said as she got out of the back seat a half hour later when they arrived at the Shiroganes’ house. “I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Pidge said, grabbing her bag. “We haven’t even begun studying yet.”

“Still, you’re very sweet,” Mrs. Shirogane said, smiling brightly at her. “You get first shower when we get inside, Pidge.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” Pidge said awkwardly, suddenly very self-conscious about how much she had sweat during the course of the afternoon.

Oh, God, she was sweaty. She was sweaty in front of her crush’s mom and sister. Was that why they offered their shower? Did she stink? Did she smell so bad but they were too polite to say anything?

“Come on, I’ll show you where bathroom is,” Mitsu said as soon as Pidge had taken her shoes off, leading the older girl up the stairs. She stopped at a closet to get out some towels, plopping them in Pidge’s arms.

Oh, God, she was in her crush’s parents’ house about to use their shower _and_ towels.

“Sorry the bathroom’s a little messy,” Mitsu said, pushing open the bathroom door. “Since Takashi and Keith moved out, and Shinji went away for school, I kind of took over the space. But that just means that there’s no stupid guy stuff in here that only guys think actually smells good. So, feel free to use anything and everything.”

“Um, thank you,” Pidge said, setting down the towels on the vanity and her bag on the floor.

“Don’t mention it!” Mitsu said, closing the door behind her. “See you in a bit!”

Oh, yes, she would have to face them again…

Positives: she’d be significantly less sweaty and stinky.

Negatives: they would have had time to talk about her while she was in the shower; she still had to figure out how to use the shower because, after all, everyone thinks they’re so smart until they have to figure out a unfamiliar shower; she’d have to get _naked_ in her crush’s parents’ house while said crush had no idea she was even there; she was going to use her crush’s parents’ towels, which most likely her crush had used at some point to dry his own naked body and—

_Oooo-kay, brain, we’re not going there; we’re just… we’re going to stop delaying the inevitable and get a quiznaking shower like any normal human being would…_

She decided to instead focus on which products to use, trying to figure out which of the unfamiliar scents would be the least strong and not overwhelm her until she could use her own products. She settled for strawberry scented shampoo and vanilla body wash, and rather liked the result of exiting the shower ten minutes later smelling like strawberry shortcake.

Pidge wasn’t quite sure what to do now, and decided going back down the stairs was the best bet. Fortunately, Mitsu heard her footsteps on the stairs and came to greet her there.

“Let me show you which unit I’m working on, then I’m going to grab a quick shower.” She said. Then she looked over her shoulder and called to her mother in Japanese, then led Pidge into the living room, where Mitsu’s textbooks, notebooks, calculator and other supplies were on top of a low table surrounded by cushions. It resembled a _kotatsu_ , minus the warm blankets. “Mom’s going to make tea for us, so I’ll make this super quick!” Mitsu promised after showing Pidge which chapter in the textbook she was struggling with.

Pidge reviewed the chapter and Mitsu’s notes, as well as her homework in order to figure out where the teen was having problems. However, she had quickly figured it out and Mitsu had not yet returned, leaving Pidge alone and unsure of what to do. She she looked around the room. There was the typical things: a couch, two arm-chairs, a television. There was art on the wall of flowers and landscapes, painted onto scrolls. There was a large bookshelf that was very full of photos and trophies as well as photos along the mantle.

This snagged her curiosity. As awkward and weird as her current situation was, and some part of her screamed “DON’T DO IT!”, and she wondered if what she was about to do was considered rude, but she stood up and walked over to the mantle anyways, looking at the pictures there.

There was a wedding portrait of Dr. and Mrs. Shirogane wearing kimonos, and another photo of the family when all four of the kids were much younger. There was a picture of Mitsu in her volleyball uniform posing with a ball, and pictures taken post-ceremony at each of the boys’ high school graduations. Her gaze lingered on Shiro at his own graduation, dressed in cap and gown, one arm around Mitsu’s shoulders while he clutched his diploma—the fake one, she realized, the one that was blank and rolled up like a scroll tied and with a ribbon that you were handed during the ceremony so there was no chance of accidentally getting someone else’s. She smiled as she studied Shiro’s smile. He looked so happy, and a lot younger than he did now, even though she knew not much time had passed between when this photo was taken and the present.

It hit her with a jolt that she had never seen a photo of Shiro before he got the scar across his face, when his hair was completely black, that all of his fingers were flesh and blood. This was Shiro… but not the Shiro she knew. She obviously knew that Shiro was a more recent amputee, and that there had to be ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures, like some really dark infomercial. But it was still slightly unnerving. It was like she was looking at a picture of a Shiro from one of Slav’s alternate realities, someone same but different. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

She found her Shiro, the familiar Shiro, in the picture from Shinji’s graduation. But the one for Keith’s, she realized, was slightly different than the other two. While Shiro’s and Shinji’s seemed to have been taken outside of the ceremony venue, Keith’s was taken some place completely different and unfamiliar. The four siblings sat on a couch—Keith still in cap and gown, real diploma clutched in his hands. Mitsu and Shinji sat on either side of him, while Shiro sat at the far right of the couch. She frowned as she studied the Shiro in that picture; this Shiro looked exhausted but still put on a smile, the scar on his face was pinker—fresher, newer—and the white tuft of his hair was shorter.

She realized then that the photo frame hid Shiro’s right arm completely. Where there wasn’t any arm at all.

She decided to move on to the book shelf, and the assortment of pictures there. She saw photos of Shiro, Keith and Shinji wearing the same red soccer uniforms; a much more recent one of Shiro and Keith holding Quidditch broomsticks; and another of Mitsu dressed in a white martial arts obi receiving her blue belt. There were photos of camping trips, and trips to the zoo, and vacations, and visits from relatives. A photo of Dr. Shirogane dressed in kimono receiving a diploma. Photos of when Shiro, Shinji and Mitsu were babies, and even a few that were of Keith and his mother, Sunny, which Pidge thought was really sweet.

And then she paused and studied a photo, frowning slightly. In the photo, Mrs. Shirogane was wearing a white obi, her hair up in a tight ponytail, sweat sheened on her forehead but she had a huge grin on her face. Her husband had one arm around her, and another supporting baby Shiro. But what confused her about the photo was that Mrs. Shirogane was proudly holding up something round and hanging from a ribbon. Something gold and hanging from a ribbon… It was faint in the photo, but Pidge could see five intertwined rings on the gold, round thing…

_Is… Is that?_

Pidge glanced to what was displayed beside the photo and her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

It was.

_Holy crap… No wonder she was able to throw a bear…_

It was an Olympic Gold medal, hanging from a green ribbon with gold edging and writing that named the year and host city.

_Holy crap, “Mom competed in Judo” actually means “Mom competed in Judo at the Summer Olympics and won gold.”_

“You can touch it, if you want.”

Pidge nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to see Mrs. Shirogane at the entryway.

“Everyone wants to touch it,” She explained, entering and setting down a tea tray at the low table. “I don’t mind.”

“Your kids mentioned you competed in Judo,” Pidge said, voice squeakier than she wanted it to be. “That’s what event you won this for, right?”

“Yes! Judo!” Mrs. Shirogane said, nodding, smiling faintly. “Good times, good times… You know, Judo and self-defense have a lot in common. Why I start teaching.”

_Holy crap, I spent the afternoon taking self-defense classes from a gold medal Olympic athlete._

“Um,” Pidge said. “When you were asked earlier about what you did, back in Japan, why didn’t you mention this?”

Mrs. Shirogane shrugged. “I taught kindergarten. Got paid for that, so that is what I did. No one paid me to go to Olympics. Had to pay to bring medal back to Japan, can you believe that? Also, maybe should have left it there, it was a pain in the butt to bring to America… Besides,” She said, taking the tea cups off of the tray and setting them on coasters. “Doesn’t matter now. I am a housewife and mama. Like that much better than teaching and competing.” 

_Holy crap, my crush’s mother is a real-life Izumi Curtis…_

Maybe that bear was actually around here somewhere being used as a decorative rug, either dead or too scared to move?

Mrs. Shirogane smiled at Pidge, who stood frozen and stunned. She then chuckled and gestured to the medal. “That was my ‘go big or go home’ time. I had already stopped teaching, and that was my last competition. I gave it my all.”

“It… obviously paid off,” Pidge said, glancing back at the medal.

Mrs. Shirogane hummed contemplatively. “I guess it did,” She said with a nod. She shrugged. “Ah well. Sounds like Mitsu is out of the shower. I’m going to get one, too, then start dinner.”

Pidge nodded as Mrs. Shirogane left the room, every bit of her freaking out. She dashed over to her bag and whipped out her cellphone, quickly doing a Google search of Gold Medalists from Judo competitions. She quickly located a Wikipedia article on a Japanese competitor in the 1996 Atlanta games named Homare Fujiwara. The same photo from the bookshelf appeared to the side, along with information such as her birthday and hometown as well as a small note that she currently used her husband’s family name—Shirogane—instead of her maiden name.

Pidge scrolled through, seeing that Mrs. Shirogane had won several major competitions in Japan, Asia and the world prior the Olympics. Then she came to a note about her “mysterious disappearance” from the world shortly after qualifying for the Olympics in a competition held in August of 1995, then no one being able to find where she was training and when asked about where and how she was going to train for the Olympics she gave vague responses. She only really reappeared and began training in April, proceeded to kick butt during the Olympics, and then after the medal ceremony, rushed over to her husband. Who happened to be holding their firstborn. Who was born in late February. Who none of the other members of Team Japan—save her coach—and reporters knew about. Which meant that she had been pregnant when she qualified for the Olympics and began her training only a month after giving birth. It apparently had been the story of the year and Homare Fujiwara-Shirogane apparently had no idea why people kept referring to her as “Superwoman.” Many lamented when she declared her retirement immediately after the closing ceremonies.

When asked why she was stopping in the prime of her athletic career, she had apparently simply shrugged and stated “I like Judo, I like competing, I like teaching. But I like my baby more. They don’t stay little for very long, you know.”

“Sorry I took so long!”

Pidge jumped again, her phone flying out of her hands and landing in her lap as she let out a startled yelp.

“Oh, um, don’t worry, you didn’t, you were—” Pidge stuttered.

Mitsu simply took her seat beside Pidge and said, “Let me guess: you found the medal and Googled Mom, didn’t you?”

“What?” Pidge said, drawing out the word, hating how her voice went high. “No… No, medal, what medal?”

“It’s cool, everyone does it,” Mitsu said, picking up her tea cup. “Seriously, everyone. If it makes you feel better, during his first visit here, Lance spent ten minutes in the bathroom doing a Google search and when he got the courage to come out he promised Mom he would never do anything to hurt Keith, both because he really liked Keith and because he was afraid of her. Well, technically what he said was ‘I fear you’ and I feel like that covers both the awe and terrified aspects of the definition of that word.”

Pidge made a mental note to kill Lance for not mentioning this at any point in time.

“Um, let’s just… Let’s focus on physics.” Pidge said, grabbing the book.

“Fine by me,” Mitsu said, flipping her notebook to a blank page.

They spent the next hour working on physics homework and sipping tea.

“Okay, I think I’m getting it,” Mitsu said. “If I do a few more practice problems, will you check them, just to make sure?”

“Of course,” Pidge said.

“But, first, can I ask you a question?” Mitsu asked. When Pidge nodded, Mitsu looked her in the eye and asked, “Do you like Takashi?”

Pidge felt her eyes slowly get wider and wider and her cheeks get redder and redder. “I, uh, I…”

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” Mitsu asked, smiling slightly. “I won’t tell him.”

“Is it obvious?” Pidge squeaked out.

Mitsu laughed. “Only sometimes. I’m used to girls giving my brothers those looks. And a couple of guys, too. I’m kind of used to it. But I will tell you this,” Mitsu grinned as she said, “I think you should tell him. Because boys are stupid and don’t get subtle hints. And I’ve heard about the Valentine’s Day Fiasco, so you can’t tell me I’m wrong.”

Pidge felt her cheeks burning even hotter now. “Look, that just proved it didn’t work between us.” She insisted. “I kind of did tell him, and it didn’t… It didn’t go well.”

Mitsu sighed and grabbed her pencil, starting to write down an equation. “I won’t tell you what to do. But second chances exist for a reason.”

“Do your physics problems,” Pidge said weakly, unsure of what else to say. Mitsu just chuckled in response.

Pidge bit her lip and aimlessly doodled on a scrap piece of paper. Quiznak, was there anyone in the world who didn’t know she had a big fat crush on Shiro now? Other than, apparently, Shiro?

Gah, crushes were hard. Feelings were complicated. Boys were confusing.

This was why she usually hid how she truly felt with sarcasm and preferred to give robots, computers and other pieces of tech all of her affection. Robots didn’t have to love her; she was the boss of them. Computers weren’t confusing; if there was a bug, she fixed it. Technology in general wasn’t too complicated.

Why couldn’t human beings be more like robots and computers? All of her problems would be easier to solve.

She checked Mitsu’s problems, which were correct to the younger girl’s relief.

“Thank you so much,” Mitsu said again as they gathered up the supplies.

“You’re welcome,” Pidge said. “Happy to be of—”

The sound of the front door opening surprised her, as did the three pairs of footsteps that accompanied that sound. Mrs. Shirogane called something in Japanese from the kitchen.

Pidge froze as she heard Mrs. Shirogane yell out three names: Shinji, Keith…

And Takashi.

In response, she heard a familiar voice respond in an unfamiliar language.

The owner of the familiar voice took a step further into the house, glancing into the living room as he went, then took a step backwards, surprise and confusion on his face as he gripped the doorframe.

“Um, hi, Shiro,” Pidge said uncomfortably, giving a weak wave.

“Hey, Takashi!” Mitsu said in a much more cheerful voice. “What did you guys bring for dessert?”

“Chocolate cake with buttercream frosting,” Keith answered, holding up a white box over Shiro’s shoulders so Mitsu could see. “Oh, hey, Pidge!”

“Hi…” Pidge said awkwardly.

So she was at her crush’s house, which apparently housed an Olympic Gold Medal, about to have dinner with her crush’s entire family. Including her crush. Who hadn’t known that she would be joining them.

No big deal….

****

Sitting down to dinner, Pidge wondered if Mitsu had anything to do with the seating arrangements, considering she was sitting right beside Shiro.

She also hoped that the terror she felt wasn’t reflected on her face. Especially as the small talk began.

“So, Pidge,” Dr. Shirogane said. “What do you study at Altea?”

“Oh, um,” Pidge stuttered out, then cleared her throat some before continuing, the words tumbling out of her mouth, the answer so often given. “Biomedical engineering and design, with a focus in prosthetics and a double minor in nanotechnology and robotics.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Shirogane said, eyes brightening slightly. “Do you plan on focusing in a pediatric field or an adult field, like your mother, or a mixture of both?”

“I’d like to work with both kids and adults,” Pidge said. “But most of my current designs are geared towards pediatrics, including a prototype I’m currently working on.”

“Oh yeah, Takashi mentioned that you were participating in Altea’s freshman showcase.” Shinji said, smiling in a way that was almost a smirk. Beside her, Shiro jerked and Shinji’s smile definitely turned into a smirk for some reason. He continued, “Is that what the prototype is for?”

“Yes,” Pidge affirmed. “It’s technically speaking phase one of a long-term project. To make a prosthetic that will last longer.”

“Do they break easily?” Mrs. Shirogane asked, her brow furrowing.

“Oh, no,” Pidge said, shaking her head slightly. “But whenever a kid goes through a growth spurt, the prosthetic no longer fits right. It’s too tight and too short, and sometimes by the time the kid is fitted for a new one and it’s made, they just go through another growth spurt. It’s expensive for the families. So this would cut back on the costs as well as make it easier for the kids, not having to worry about their prosthetic not fitting correctly.”

“So it would ‘grow’ along with the kid?” Mitsu asked. Pidge nodded. “That’s really cool.”

“Is this the first prototype you’ve ever made?” Mr. Shirogane asked.

“The first I’ve ever made on my own,” Pidge admitted. “I’ve helped my mom a few times when she’s worked on prototypes.”

She was suddenly hit by a jolt, realizing what she had just said.

_Oh crap…_

“And by ‘help’, I mean, you know, the kind of variety similar to letting a toddler dump in a cup of flour when you’re baking,” She quickly added. “They put in flour, therefore they ‘helped’. But helping my mom didn’t involve flour, it involved passing tools and stuff.”

And now she was talking about flour. Great, they all probably thought she was some freaky weirdo who rambled about nonsense…

Subject change, now.

“Um, Shinji, I don’t think you ever mentioned what you are studying,” She said.

“I’m studying library science,” Shinji explained. He grinned. “Or, as I like to refer to it as, the science less likely to go boom.”

Subject successfully changed, and deviated far, far away from prosthetics. The rest of dinner, after that, was much more relaxing and less stressful. It soon got late, though, and Pidge needed to get back to campus. Shiro offered her a ride, since he drove himself and Keith over earlier that day anyway and they needed to get back to their own apartment.

What Pidge wasn’t expecting was for Keith to get into the back of the car, leaving Pidge to take the passenger seat, even though she insisted he ride up front.

Keith just shook his head. “Please, you’re the guest. I insist you ride shotgun.”

She suspected, like the seating arrangements at the dinner table, this was also pre-arranged amongst Shiro’s siblings. It was almost confirmed as Keith tucked his earbuds in as soon as Shiro pulled out of the driveway.

“Thanks for helping Mitsu out,” Shiro said, breaking the silence of the drive.

“Oh, I was happy to,” Pidge said. “And thank you for arranging for me to take your mom’s class. It was was really fun and I learned a lot.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Shiro said. “But I also hope you never have to use what you learned.”

“Same,” Pidge said. “Also, um, thanks for the ride.”

“Not a problem, was headed this way anyways,” Shiro said. “Not that far of a drive, either.”

Not for the first time, Pidge wondered why Shiro and Keith lived in an apartment when their parents and sister lived in a house not too far away from the school. But she decided that today was not the day to get an answer to that question.

“Hey, Pidge,” Shiro said. “Um, if you want… If you need…” He huffed slightly in frustration, but Pidge could see on his face that it was aimed at himself, not her. “Uh, look. If you need to get another look at my arm for your project, you can. Just say the word, and we’ll make time for it.”

“Really?” Pidge said with surprise. “I, um. I thought you didn’t really like people looking at and messing with your arm.”

“Yeah, well,” Shiro said, and in the brief flash of light that came from a passing car, she saw that his cheeks were red. “It’s for a good cause, right? Your project idea is fantastic. It’s going to be a total game-changer, it’s going to impact so many lives… Totally worth it.”

“Well,” Pidge said after a moment of thought. “As long as you’re comfortable. I would love to, but I will only do so as long as you’re comfortable and you tell me if you’re not.”

“I like those terms,” Shiro said with a nod as he pulled into the parking lot of her dorm. “Want me to walk you to the door?”

“Sure,” Pidge said, unbuckling her seat belt and grabbing her backpack.

“So, um, it was good to see you tonight.” Shiro said as they approached the door.

“Even if it was totally unexpected?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “And I’m guessing it was unexpected for you, too.”

“Yeah,” Pidge admitted. “But not an unpleasant surprise.”

“Glad to hear that,” Shiro said as they stopped at the dorm door. “So, um, I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, nodding. “See you. And thank you.”

Shiro took a half-step forward towards her, hesitated, then gave her a small wave before heading back to his car.

Pidge watched him go, slipping inside the building as he opened up the car door.

In the silence of the elevator, she tilted her head back.

The questions she had concerning one Takashi Shirogane just continued to increase in number the more she saw him. And it was starting to worry her that she had more questions than answers.

And, not for the first time, she wondered how Shiro gained his scars and lost his arm.

But she also wondered how different the Shiro from before was from the Shiro she knew now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, Shiro definitely kicked Shinji underneath the table. However, Shinji expected it and moved so that Shiro’s foot didn’t meet his leg.


	32. Shiro

Shiro couldn’t sleep, and not for a lack of trying.

The evening was still replaying in his head. From the shock of seeing Pidge sitting in his parents’ living room, to the anger and annoyance he felt towards his siblings who obviously knew she was going to be there, to the happy and relaxed state he got into when he heard Pidge talk about her projects and interests.

And, really, no photo albums full of his baby photos were brought out, so the evening wasn’t really as bad as it could have been.

But there was also something Pidge had said that confused him.

_“I’ve helped my mom a few times when she’s worked on prototypes.”_

He wasn’t sure why that was sticking with him.

Scratch that, he knew why it was sticking with him. Because it was usually stuck on him.

The prosthetic arm currently laying across the top of his dresser was a prototype, made by Pidge’s mother. He remembered the odd look Dr. Gunderson had given her daughter when Pidge a little over a week before, and how much Pidge knew and understood about the prosthetic…

He wondered…

Shiro sighed and tossed aside the covers, swinging his legs out of the bed. He was trying to be quiet, but Keith rolled over and squinted at him in the dark anyway.

“Shiro?” He mumbled. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Keith, everything’s fine, just can’t sleep,” Shiro said. “You go back to bed.”

Keith said nothing else, but rolled back over.

Shiro grabbed his laptop and headed towards the living room, Captain Purr-Card following him, mewing curiously.

“You know it’s not breakfast time, so don’t even give me that,” Shiro chided the cat as he sank down in the armchair. He typed in his password one letter at a time using his left pointer finger, then immediately opened up his voice-to-text program before opening up his e-mail.

He stared at his inbox for a moment.

Did he really want to do this?

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and searched the folder marked “Dr. G”. He and Dr. Gunderson frequently exchanged e-mails regarding his prosthetic and appointments, and she sometimes sent him information about the prosthetic and other assorted things. YouTube videos and articles and other various things.

He skimmed until he found the exact one he was looking for. It hadn’t been anything truly important, basically a confirmation of his most recent appointment, but there was an added P.S. that he wasn’t expecting.

One of Dr. Gunderson’s other patients had decided to start a group chat on a popular server site, exclusively for the nine beta-testers of the prosthetic that Shiro used. Dr. Gunderson had sent him a link, but hadn’t dared click it then. 

But now… Now he had questions, and so he clicked it. He logged in with his information and put in the request. To his surprise, the request was almost immediately accepted.

A user named Sgt-Chuckles posted: **Welcome, Black_Lion!**

Another user, this one named Wit-Beyond-Measure, posted: **The baby finally decided to join us!**

Shiro frowned. “Baby?”

Sgt-Chuckles quickly responded: **Don’t tease the boy, Annie. Sorry, Black_Lion, but Dr. G mentioned to me that there’s a forty-year gap between the oldest and youngest of us and, well, we knew which one of us was the oldest and it was simple process of elimination from there.**

“I just turned twenty-one!”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Yeah, and I’m turning thirty next month. Sarge here is in his forties, then Al’s got grandbabies and Lil’s going to be a grandma by the end of the year…**

**Sgt-Chuckles: Yeah, you’re the youngest.**

Shiro huffed slightly. “I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to be on here at this time of night. Or is everyone in different time-zones? Also, Wit-Beyond-Measure, is that a _Harry Potter_ reference?”

**Sgt-Chuckles: We’re all on the east coast; I work from home nowadays and have weird sleeping habits.**

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: And I’ve got a three month old who doesn’t yet understand the concept of sleeping through the night. And, yes, that’s a HP reference! I’m a Ravenclaw. You?**

“Hufflepuff.”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Nice. So, what’s your story, kiddo?**

“My… my story?” Shiro repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

**Sgt-Chuckles: She means, how did you lose your arm? For me, suicide bomber while serving overseas.**

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: I had cancer, amputated at the age of twelve. We’ve got all sorts in our group, all different stories. Car accidents, injured in the various lines of duty, disease… We’ve all got a story as to how we got here. So what’s yours?**

Shiro hesitated. These were people just like him, who had a before and after. But it was still a story he was struggling to understand and accept. He wasn’t ready to share it yet.

“Can we take a rain check?”

**Sgt-Chuckles: Whenever you’re ready.**

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: But you at least have to tell us why you’re on here at this ungodly hour.**

“Couldn’t sleep,” Shiro admitted. “Had a lot on my mind.”

**Sgt-Chuckles: Want to talk about it?**

“It’s… kind of complicated.”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Bring it. We love complicated. Plus, it’s way better than watching infomercials trying to sell me a new set of kitchen knives.**

“It’s really complicated.” Shiro said. “It’s just… Um… By any chance, have either of you had your prosthetic adjusted recently?”

**Sgt-Chuckles: Yep, got mine adjusted about a week ago. If it’s about your arm, you better talk to Dr. G directly instead of us. We’re moral support, not tech support.**

“No, not about the arm. It’s just… Then you got your arm adjusted at Dr. Gunderson’s office at Altea U?”

**Sgt-Chuckles: Did indeed. Nice campus. You ever been?**

“I attend school there.”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: A smart baby!**

**Sgt-Chuckles: Ignore her. What about Altea?**

“It’s not Altea, it’s… Um, was there a girl, a student, who sat in?”

**Sgt-Chuckles: Oh, yes, Katie! Dr. G’s little girl! Studying prosthetics, just like her mom. Nice kid. A bit shy but sharper than a new razor.**

“Yes, her.”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Wait a second… I think I see how this is complicated… ;)**

“I, uh…”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: You’ve got a crush, don’t you, baby? This is like one of those OTP prompts my little sister loves to write from: Person A is an amputee, and Person B is studying prosthetics…**

“It’s not like that!”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Isn’t it?**

“… Yeah, okay, maybe it is… Just a little…”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Living up to my username, as usual.**

**Sgt-Chuckles: Annie…**

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Come on, it’s cute. Oh, and she attends Altea U, too! So maybe you’ll just so casually run into her and…**

“I, uh… We’re actually friends in real life.”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: Oh, I see then. Making sure none of us think we’re living the same OTP prompt. Don’t worry, kiddo, you’re good, the rest of us are either: taken, too old, or she’s not our type, or some combination thereof. But we’ll all be rooting for you! Well, unless we find out you’re actually a terrible person in which case you’re going to be down a few more limbs because Katie is just the sweetest thing ever. And the saltiest. She’s like a chocolate covered pretzel or something.**

“So you’ve met Katie before?”

**Wit-Beyond-Measure: We all have at some point. I met her about three years ago. She had an internship with Dr. G’s practice the summer before her junior year of high school. In exchange for a free prosthetic—since my insurance is crap—I agreed to be one of the beta testers in the early phases of the project that’s result is these lovely hands we all have. Katie was highly involved in the process of fine tuning and working on the designs and programing.**

**Sgt-Chuckles: I received one of the finished prototypes, and Katie was involved in the fitting process. I almost think she knows more about the prosthetic than Dr. G does.**

Yeah. Shiro thought so, too.

Then why did she keep pretending she didn’t?

*****

“What do you want?” Shiro snapped when he accepted the call.

“Rude,” Mitsu responded flatly. “No ‘Hi, my favorite baby sister’? Or ‘Is everything okay, sweet sister of mine’? Geez, Takashi, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were angry with me…”

“I am, and you know why,” Shiro said, going back to loading the dishwasher. “You could have told me you invited Pidge over for dinner.”

Mitsu huffed. “That was seriously two weeks ago, Taka. Get over it. And you were happy to see her and you know it.”

“Going back to my first question,” Shiro said, avoiding her last statement. “What do you want?”

“To call my dearest oldest brother?”

“Try again.”

Mitsu sighed. “I need a ride.”

“Hmm, should have thought about that two weeks ago.”

“Takashi! Don’t be mean!” Mitsu whined. “I just need a ride to the craft store! There’s a sale and Haha and Chichi can’t take me and this is the only time I’ll be able to get fabric at prices this low, and I need stuff for a school project, too.”

“Then ask Keith, he’d love to take you and shop for himself while he’s at it,” Shiro said. Taking Keith and Mitsu into a craft store was like taking any other kid into a candy and toy store. Mitsu’s projects usually involved textiles, while Keith went through a sketchbook about every three months. Birthday presents and New Year’s gifts for the two over the last several years had been in the form of gift cards that were spent usually within a week.

“Keith has a motorcycle, Takashi,” Mitsu said as if it was obvious. “Both of us plus our purchases won’t fit. So if Keith takes me, we’d have to borrow your car anyways. And if you take me—and I guess Keith, too—I’ll buy you ice-cream?”

“And a sandwich,” Shiro added.

“You drive a hard bargain, Nii-Chan, but you’ve got a deal.”

And that was how Shiro ended up spending a Tuesday afternoon driving Keith and Mitsu to the craft store, the two of them practically bouncing in their seats like five year olds on their way to Disney.

Despite his initial plan to stay in the car and read, his mother had pulled him aside and practically begged him to go in and keep an eye on the two and make sure that Mitsu didn’t spend all of her savings and that Keith didn’t blow an entire paycheck as they were prone to do. 

Dutiful oldest son that he was, he did as his mother asked.

Fortunately, it wasn’t that hard of a task; he ‘guarded’ Mitsu’s shopping cart, keeping one eye on her as she touched fabrics and checked the prices and mumbled to herself, and the fabric aisles were situated perfectly so that Shiro could also see Keith as he searched for new pens, a basket hanging from the crook of his arm with a new sketchpad already inside.

While standing around, his phone buzzed, alerting him as to a new message in one of the group chats. He checked and saw that it was the one with all of his friends, started by Matt, for organizing a birthday party for Pidge. Shay had volunteered her apartment as the location, which Keith, Lance and Matt would decorate, and Hunk was going to make a cake while Nyma and Rolo volunteered to get sodas and other party food. Her parents were coming in to town for the occasion and said that they would handle ordering pizza.

Slav took on the duty of reminding everyone to not involve alcohol this time.

And Allura… she had volunteered herself and Shiro to find a gift to give to Pidge on behalf of the entire team.

So far, she hadn’t found anything quite perfect, and neither had he.

With the reminder, though, he glanced around the craft store for an idea. He wasn’t sure why. Pidge was more interested in robots and computers than sewing patterns and make-your-own-pot-holder kits.

Then his eyes landed on the fleece aisle. There was a particular bolt that caught his eye, a dark green with silver stripes.

_Huh,_ He thought. _Slytherin colors…._

Right beside it, though, was a beautiful dark blue.

Ravenclaw blue…

Slytherin and Ravenclaw. The two houses Pidge most aligned with. She mostly had Ravenclaw gear, and at trivia night had mentioned off hand to Allura that she wished she could represent both houses more often.

Wandering away from the shopping cart, Shiro walked over to both bolts, his fingers trailing from one to the next. They were both so soft, and undoubtedly warm. Pidge always complained about how cold her dorm was…

Then, he had an idea.

“Hey, Mitsu,” He called. 

She poked her head out from the end of the aisle behind him. “Yeah?”

“How many yards of fleece do you need to make a no-sew blanket?” Shiro asked.

“Depends on how big the person is, or the bed you want to put it on is,” Mitsu said. “For scale, yours is two and a half yards.”

Shiro nodded. “So, for a person who is about five feet tall…”

He cut himself off as Mitsu’s face fell into a knowing smirk.

“Let me help you, dear Onii-Chan,” She said. “And now you can never complain about taking me on these shopping trips again.”

A few hours later, the fleece was cut and purchased, and Allura was invited over to Shiro’s apartment to transform these two pieces of fleece into a cozy blanket.

“No-sew blankets are just about the hardest thing in the world to mess up,” Mitsu explained to Shiro and Allura. She picked up Shiro’s blanket—a black and yellow one Mitsu made for him while he was in the hospital—as an example. “You just want to keep your cuts consistent, make sure you take off the corners, have the right sides both facing out, knot ‘em and voilà! Blanket!”

Shiro and Allura both stared at her blankly, gave each other a panicked look, then turned back to look at Mitsu, silently begging for further instruction.

Mitsu closed her eyes and heaved a huge sigh, then looked down at Captain Purr-Card, who was grooming himself at her feet. “We have our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

They did indeed. Mitsu guided Shiro and Allura through the process. Captain Purr-Card sat on the very center of the fabric and fell asleep. But by the end, it was a success.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Shiro asked Allura nervously, only now doubting his idea.

Allura grinned at him. “I think she’ll love it, Shiro.”

From where she lounged on the couch scrolling through her phone, Mitsu mumbled something that sounded like “especially when she finds out this is from you”.

*****

“Alright, I’ve been wondering this for a little while, but I’m kind of dying to know,” Lance said as cake was eaten around the room. “Where exactly did the nickname ‘Pidge’ come from?”

At that, Dr. Holt, Dr. Gunderson and Matt laughed as the birthday girl groaned, but also grinned.

“Can I tell them, Kit-Kat?” Dr. Holt asked. Pidge laughed slightly and nodded her head. That was all the encouragement he needed, his face breaking out into a wide, Cheshire-Cat grin. “Well, you see, when Katie and Matt were little, I had this big book all about Nicola Tesla in my office. It had all these pictures and diagrams and all sorts of information inside. Well, these two kiddos just loved it. Wasn’t unusual to see the two of them sprawled out on their bellies staring at the pages for hours. They loved it so much, that when Halloween rolled around, Matt decided he wanted to be Tesla for Halloween. Strange but fairly easy enough. But Katie here… Well, she wanted to be one of Tesla’s pet pigeons for Halloween.”

“Except, since she was two, she couldn’t pronounce the word ‘pigeon’ properly, she could only say ‘pidge’,” Dr. Gunderson added. “So it took quite a while to figure out that was what she meant, since we had no idea what a ‘pidge’ was. Also, not the easiest Halloween costume for a mom to track down, just in case you were wondering.”

“Love you, Mom.” Pidge said, leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder, giving her an ‘I’m cute’ look.

“Love you too, sweetie, and hope that if you choose to have children someday, you have to track down or create an even stranger costume to appease a two year old at Halloween.” Dr. Gunderson said, patting her daughter’s knee.

“So, we actually did manage to find a way to make a pigeon costume,” Dr. Holt said. “And I come home from work one day and Katie’s in her brand new pigeon costume and showing it off, just as proud as she could be. And so I told her ‘You look wonderful, Katie!’ and then she just gave me this little frown and put her hands on her hips, looks me dead in the eye and says, ‘I’m not Katie, daddy. I’m a Pidge!’ and after that, whenever she was in the costume—which she wore a lot—she refused to acknowledge us calling her ‘Katie’. Therefore, ‘Pidge’ has stuck.”

There was a lot of laughing and ‘awwwing’ going around the room. As the conversation settled into a new topic—now about crazy Halloween costumes—Shiro excused himself to refill his drink. What he didn’t know was that he was being followed until he heard a familiar voice say, “Leave the Sprite open, I want some more, too.”

Shiro glanced over at Dr. Gunderson—or was it technically Colleen now, since she was in Mom-mode? Even as he passed her the bottle, he knew she hadn’t come into the kitchen just for more soda.

“Katie mentioned that you let her gather more data from your arm,” She said conversationally as she added ice to her cup. Yep, it was Colleen before, Dr. Gunderson now.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “She comes over about once a week and hooks me up to enough cables to power an Apple store. She says she gets a lot of useful stuff.”

Dr. Gunderson nodded. “I had no doubts she would. She showed me her prototype earlier today. It’s going along very well.”

“That’s good to hear,” Shiro said. He hadn’t seen the prototype in person yet, but he had heard a lot about it. Pidge said that she didn’t want to show him until it was completed or nearly there. “Pidge is going to kick butt at the showcase.”

“Oh, no doubt about that,” Dr. Gunderson said, smiling. “I wanted to tell you two things, Takashi. The first is ‘thank you’.”

“For what?” Shiro asked, brow furrowing in confusion. “For letting Pidge look at my arm?”

“No, for Quidditch.”

“Matt’s the one who dragged her to our practice.”

“Yes, but you’re part of the reason she kept coming back. You and your team,” Dr. Gunderson said. “Katie… she doesn’t make friends easily. Her differences aren’t always welcome or appreciated. But you all made her feel welcome, and not just because she’s Matt’s sister. I haven’t seen her this happy in a while, so thank you for that.”

Shiro wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, especially since he felt like he hadn’t exactly done anything worth thanking in that regard, but mumbled out an “You’re welcome” because darn it his mother raised him to be polite.

“I also wanted you to know that I’m proud of you,” Dr. Gunderson said. “You’ve come a long way, and you’re still taking steps towards recovery. But where you are now, that should be celebrated. It’s an achievement. You’ve gotten this far, you didn’t give up. You’re going to do great things in this world, Takashi, and you’re only just beginning.”

The words weren’t magical; they didn’t relieve the tension he felt, alleviate the fears and nightmares, or made everything sudden sunshine and rainbows.

But, he had to admit, the words did make him feel pretty good in the moment.

“Thank you,” He said.

Matt stuck his head in the doorway to the kitchen. “Come on, birthday girl has presents to open!”

All of those good feelings Dr. Gunderson gave Shiro only intensified a few minutes later as Pidge pulled out her new blanket, immediately wrapping herself up in it and rubbing her cheek against one of the corners, basking in the softness of the fabric.

But even as he enjoyed the rest of the party—and, more importantly, watching Pidge have a great time—there was something poking him in the back of the brain.

Was one of Pidge’s underappreciated differences the reason she was hiding something from him?

Something regarding his prosthetic?


	33. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!

“I AM MOANA!”

“No, you’re not, and can we please change the CD?” Matt groaned from the backseat of the van. “We’ve gone through it four times now.”

Lance’s response to that question was to purse his lips together and click the CD a few tracks back to the beginning of the soundtrack while stating firmly, “Driver picks the music. Either suck it up and sing along, or walk. Besides, the _Moana_ soundtrack is a work of genius and we will listen to it as many times as it takes for you to appreciate it, Matthew.”

Matt groaned again. “I’m riding in the other car on the way back.”

From the backseat of the van, Pidge chuckled and rolled her eyes slightly before going back to her book. In the van and Allura’s car, the Quidditch team was on a road trip to Amblin University. 

Due to a need for Amblin to change their match dates, the team agreed to a much earlier start time than initially scheduled. This meant that the three-hour trip was made on a Friday afternoon, with the team staying overnight at a hotel in order to be at the match in the morning refreshed and ready to play. Thankfully but also oddly, Pidge’s parents and Alfor all were rewards members of the same hotel chain and were frequent guests due to attending various conferences around the country, so the parental units arranged for three hotel rooms for the team to share.

The whole team was excited for their mini-vacation, especially since they hoped it would go better than their spring break. For one night, projects and classes were forgotten about in exchange for exploring a new place.

Pidge was glad for the temporary respite. Her prototype for the showcase was almost done, but she knew that sometimes taking a step away from a project was important for mental health. And Amblin happened to have a mall across the street from their hotel. A huge mall with a comic book and video game store and a bookstore that Pidge planned to explore in the name of mental health.

The occupants of the van were singing to the lyrics of “You’re Welcome” as the CD made its sixth cycle to that song when they pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. They got checked in and decided who was going to be in which rooms, dropping off their bags and dispersing the key-cards.

Then it was back into the cars to go to the mall

“All right,” Shiro said as they stood in the entryway to the mall. “We should use the buddy system.”

Immediately, Lance grabbed Keith’s hand, throwing both their arms in the air and yelled “BUDDY!”

“Well that’s a down-grade in our relationship status,” Keith said flatly.

Hunk held out his hand towards Shay. “Will you be my buddy?”

Shay smiled. “It would be my honor.”

Everyone was more surprised when Allura and Matt paired up, though it made more sense once they learned that the two had already planned to go see a horror film at the mall’s movie theater. As the only two of the group able to stomach horror films, the others quickly declined the offer to join them.

“But they have reclining seats, and it’s one of the limited showings in 3-D!” Matt gleefully tried to entice.

Which left Pidge and…

She looked up at Shiro, who looked down at her.

“Buddy?” He asked.

She nodded. “Buddy.”

Everyone split up, heading in opposite directions.

“So, uh, what do you want to do?” Shiro asked when they were left alone. “Any particular store you want to check out?”

“Um, the comic book and video game store, and the bookstore,” Pidge said. “You?”

“Same,” Shiro said. “Which do you want to go to first?”

Pidge gestured to the mall map. After a moment of studying it together, Pidge said, “Okay, if we do the comic book and video game store first, we can do the bookstore next, which gets us closer to the food court for dinner.”

“That settles that, then,” Shiro said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

The comic and video game store was nerd-vana, with more figurines, t-shirts, and expansion packs for _Settlers of Catan_ and _Dungeons and Dragons_ than Pidge ever thought could ever exist.

Needless to say, it was very tempting to blow all of her recently-gained birthday money in that one store.

She got caught up on _Lumberjanes_ and _Ms. Marvel_ , skimmed through the discounted games, and let out a squee at finding at Totoro plushie that was definitely coming home with her. Shiro, on the other hand, made it up to the check-out counter with several new t-shirts of varying geekery.

“I was starting to think you owned every single nerdy t-shirt ever made,” Pidge remarked as she watched the clerk take an orange shirt with BB-8 that proclaimed **That’s How I Roll** off the hanger.

“I’m getting there,” was Shiro’s response.

“Is this, like, a life-goal thing?”

“It’s more of a ‘life is too short to wear boring clothes’ thing.”

“Fair enough,” Pidge said with a nod.

The girl behind the counter sighed faintly. “You two are so lucky. I wish my girlfriend was a nerd, too. I love her, but I wish we could do stuff like this together.”

“Huh?” Pidge and Shiro said together.

“Wait, um,” Shiro said, his cheeks flushing.

“We’re not dating!” Pidge said, much louder than she intended.

“We’re just friends,” Shiro quickly added.

“Oh,” The girl said, blushing. “I’m sorry, I saw you two come in together, I kind of assumed… I’m so sorry.”

They both assured her it was fine, though the rest of the check-out was a little awkward.

“Um,” Shiro said as they awkwardly walked towards the next store. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault,” Pidge said. “She didn’t know. No harm, no foul, right?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said as they entered the bookstore. Pidge immediately went up to the customer service desk, where a bored-looking girl with pink, spiked hair and multiple piercings flipped through a magazine.

“Hi,” She said.

The girl looked up, pushing aside her magazine. “Hey. How can I help you?”

“Alright, so, I wanted to see if you had a book in stock, and if so, where would it be? Because it could technically fit into two categories, so I figured it be better to ask first,” Pidge explained.

The girl nodded, turning to her computer. “What’s the title?” Pidge told her and a second later, the girl said, “Yep, we’ve got some copies in. Graphic Novels.”

With that, she pointed over to one wall of the store. Pidge thanked her and headed in that direction. After a few moments of searching, she grinned as she pulled a red and blue book off the shelf.

“Yes!” She said. “Success!”

“What did you find?”

Pidge leapt a foot in the air and yelped, then felt embarrassed when she realized it was only Shiro. She hadn’t realized he had followed her.

“Sorry!” He said quickly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Sorry, I just thought you went off on your own,” Pidge said, her cheeks scarlet. “Um, to answer your question, this is what I wanted to come in here for.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed slightly as he read the title. “ _Wires and Nerve_? What’s that about?”

“It’s a graphic-novel sequel to a series of books called the Lunar Chronicles,” Pidge explained. She pointed to the girl on the cover. “This is Iko. She looks like a human, doesn’t she? But she’s actually an android.”

“Ah,” Shiro said sagely, his lips curling upwards. “Now I see the appeal. So she’s the main character, then?”

“Well, this is the first story from her point of view,” Pidge explained. She grabbed his hand, dragging him behind her over to where the signs read ‘Teen Fiction’. After a moment of looking on the shelves, Pidge pulled a copy of the first book, _Cinder_ off the shelf, putting it in Shiro’s hands. “Okay, so the Lunar Chronicles is this sci-fi series, but each book is a retelling of a different fairy-tale. First Cinderella, then Little Red Riding Hood, then Rapunzel, and then Snow White. They each play a different role in a war against an evil queen, who rules the colony on the moon and has magic powers and stuff. There’s spaceships, and monsters, and Cinder is a cyborg!”

She stopped talking, her grin fading slightly at watching Shiro’s face. He had opened the book to the first chapter, his eyes moving as he read, then he froze, something in his expression hardening then softening.

While the cover displayed a foot made of steel and a light-colored material in a red high-heeled shoe, Pidge had momentarily forgotten that the foot wasn’t Cinder’s only cyborg adjustment.

Just like Shiro, Cinder had a steel hand she tried to hide.

Not looking up, Shiro mumbled, “Does she live happily ever after?”

She. Not they.

“Yes,” Pidge said. “She does.”

Shiro nodded and closed the book, tucking it to his chest. “I’m going to get it.”

“I have a copy back at my dorm, if you want to borrow mine instead.” Pidge said.

Shiro shook his head. “No. I’m going to get it. It’s a paperback, and it comes highly recommended, so that’s good enough for me to buy it. I might borrow the rest from you, though, if that’s alright. Or the library if it’s not.”

Pidge nodded. “Want to keep browsing?”

Shiro nodded and without another word walked away, leaving Pidge alone on the Teen Fiction aisle. She browsed the aisle for a few minutes, studying the backs of books and the inside covers, settling on a paperback copy of a first book in a series set in a steampunk Victorian England featuring a finishing school for spies (steampunk and female spies being two of her greatest weaknesses) as well as decided to take a chance on a hardcover about a science-loving girl who rather unexpectedly became queen (the poor heroine was rather comfortable being twenty-third in line for the throne; it wasn’t her fault that she happened to be absent when the king and the twenty-two people ahead of her were all poisoned). Pidge decided that, if she wanted dinner, she was going to have to cut herself off and went to find Shiro.

However, she was surprised as to where she found him. He hadn’t gone much father, only an aisle or two, sitting on the floor, leaning against the self-help collection, the book open against his knees. Pidge wasn’t sure if she should disturb him or leave him alone, and instead hid behind one of the shelves, watching him.

A few minutes later, Shiro sighed, closed the book on his thumb and pulled his phone out of his pocket, only to return it to his pocket a moment later and stand up.

Pidge gasped slightly and ducked back, making sure he couldn’t see her, taking a few steps back carefully. When she saw that Shiro was nearly to the end of the aisle, she straightened up and stepped forward again. He did a double-take upon seeing her. “Oh, there you are, Pidge. I was just about to go look for you. Are you done browsing?”

“Yeah, how about you?” She asked casually.

Shiro nodded. “Let’s pay and go get some food.”

Pidge nodded and they walked up to the cash register.

On their way out of the store, Shiro said, “Pidge, I have a question. About Cinder.”

“The book or the character?” Pidge asked.

“Character,” Shiro said. He glanced down at the bag that the book was in, then he said, “Her family name is Linh. I know that’s her step-mother’s family name, but is Cinder… Is she Asian, too? Or does she just live in the Eastern Commonwealth?”

So he had definitely been reading for a while.

“The author says that’s Cinder’s mixed-race,” Pidge said. “East Asian and white. Or, at least, she looks mixed. It gets a bit complicated and you’ll see why.”

Shiro just nodded, his whole body relaxing slightly. “She’s Asian…”

It was with a jolt that Pidge realized why he asked the question. And that he was happy for the answer.

Linh Cinder was East Asian. Linh Cinder was an amputee. Linh Cinder had a hand of steel that she was self-conscious about, though her reasoning was vastly different from Shiro’s.

Linh Cinder and Shirogane Takashi were not very different.

They approached the food court, filled with many different cuisine options ranging from McDonalds to sushi.

“What do you want to eat?” Pidge asked.

“Not sure yet, way too many options,” Shiro said. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that teriyaki chicken over there smells really good right about now,” Pidge said, taking a shot in the dark.

As she hoped, Shiro’s face lit up slightly. “That sounds good...”

“Let’s get in line, then,” Pidge said.

She knew it wasn’t his mother’s cooking, or _The White Crane_ , but it was familiar and for some reason she thought he could use some comfort in the form of Japanese food. Or the mall food-court version of it. 

And she wasn’t lying, the teriyaki chicken did smell fantastic.

Two plates were ordered and Pidge had the great pleasure of finally beating Shiro to the punch and paid for both meals, despite his confused noises and protestations.

“Nope, I won’t let you talk me out of this one,” Pidge said as she handed money to the teenage boy behind the counter. “You keep buying and telling me I can pay the next time, but this time I’ve got it covered.”

The old lady behind the counter chuckled and said something in Japanese to the teenage boy, who looked at Shiro and said, “My grandmother says—”

“I heard,” Shiro said, his cheeks suddenly red, then he said something in Japanese, probably a reiteration in their shared tongue. This seemed to delight the old woman as she then began to speak in much faster Japanese, which Shiro responded to, then suddenly she tapped her grandson on the shoulder and told him something. He nodded and Shiro started shaking his head. He and the old woman exchanged a short conversation, then Shiro simply looked resigned and bowed to her and said one word that Pidge did know. “ _Arigato_.”

Suddenly, the teenage boy was handing Pidge back much more change than she was expecting. Pidge became even more confused when their trays were brought out, and included a small plate with three small orbs of cake on a skewer, each in a different color, red then white then green. Pidge didn’t know what to say, and instead just looked at Shiro for an explanation.

“She gave us a family discount and is giving us botchan dango for dessert,” Shiro said, giving her an embarrassed smile.

“Oh!” Pidge said. She followed Shiro’s example and bowed to the woman. “Thank you! _Arigato_!”

Smiling, the old woman sent them off to eat.

“Uh,” Pidge said when they were far enough away. “What just happened?”

“She asked what part of Japan I’m from, and it turns out that she’s from the exact same town as my mom,” Shiro explained as they sat down at a table. “So she apparently considers us family. Thus the discount and the free dessert. It was a gift, and it’s rude to refuse a gift.”

“You were shaking your head no a lot, though,” Pidge said, frowning.

“Yeah, well, you can’t just accept a gift outright. You have to be humble first, and say that you can’t possibly accept it, that it is too much, and you can’t do that more than two times or else it’s just being downright rude.”

“What did she say to you at the beginning?” Pidge asked. “That got this all started?”

Shiro frowned slightly as he grabbed a piece of broccoli with his chopsticks. “Don’t worry about it.”

Pidge frowned at him, then, “It happened again, didn’t it? She thought we were together?”

Shiro nodded slightly. Once he had swallowed his bite of food, he said, “What she said was ‘tell him that she is a keeper’.”

Pidge smiled. “Other way around. You’re the keeper.” Then she blushed and quickly added, “In Quidditch. You’re the team’s Keeper. That’s what I meant.”

“Yeah, well. Sorry it keeps happening.”

“Not your fault. You can’t control what people think.”

“Still.”

They ate in silence for a long time, until finally Shiro spoke again.

“Pidge? Mind if I ask what made you decide to go into prosthetics? Was it because it is what your mom does or something else? Is it just a family thing?”

Pidge took a sip of her soda, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. She hadn’t told this story before. No one had ever asked.

But she was ready to tell it.

“Well,” She said. “It kind of is a family thing. In a lot of ways. My Zayde, Mom’s father, he served overseas during the Vietnam War. He was in the Army, and he lost the lower half of his right leg to a land mine. So my mom always grew up around him with his half of a leg, and so have I. Well, I did until he died when I was in the seventh grade, but that’s beside the point. But, for Mom, seeing her dad struggle was what made her get into prosthetics. He had a lot of issues, especially as he developed diabetes and some other issues thanks to Agent Orange exposure, so it usually made him bed-ridden or wheel-chair bound since it ended up affecting his residual limb. He was never upset about the loss of his leg, just kind of accepted it and was glad that he made it out alive when so many others didn’t. But Mom saw how the phantom leg pains hurt him, and how his other health issues could affect his prosthetic. Zayde had this saying, that everyone does the best they can with the best they have, and so Mom wanted to make the very best so others could do their very best.

“And I want to do that, too. But there’s a reason I want to specialize in pediatric prosthetics. My older cousin, Neil. Growing up, Matt and I were close with all of our cousins. Neil was the oldest of us cousins, and I saw him as a second big-brother. When he was eleven, and I was four, Neil went in for a regular check-up at the doctor’s office. They found something unusual, and sent him for further testing. By the end of the week, he had been diagnosed with cancer. It was centered in his left arm. The doctors tried chemo and radiation, but it was getting progressively aggressive. So they had to amputate. He left the operating theater without an arm and without cancer.

“When he was ready, he got his first prosthetic. I remember, the adults wouldn’t let me and some of the younger cousins see Neil until then, because they were worried that we’d cry or something. But I just remember worrying if Neil would be the same or not. How different he’d be. But he was really excited about the prosthetic, mostly because he and my mom had a long talk about them before his surgery. Neil always wanted to know how things worked. He probably drove his doctors and nurses up the wall trying to answer his questions about the equipment, but Mom was able to give him all the answers he wanted and more. So when he first saw us, he was so excited to show us how it looked, how it worked. He was still the same Neil.

“Except, well, Neil was eleven at the time. He got older, hit puberty. He got taller. So he outgrew the prosthetic. Every inch he grew meant more money to be spent on a replacement. He ended up going through two in a year because of it, and the insurance would only cover one. Mom ended up asking for a favor from a colleague to help with getting his first one, since the insurance couldn’t cover the prosthetic at that time in addition to the other treatments. Then his dad got a new job, which was both good and bad because he got better pay, but the health insurance with that company wouldn’t cover prosthetics at all. It was a mess. Neil eventually stopped wearing the prosthetics all together, because he felt like they were being a burden on his parents. Said he was glad for having two hands, but he was mature enough to go for just using one. It was hard, but he made do. He did the best he could with the best he had. He uses one today now, though. Once he stopped growing, he got a new prosthetic. Somedays he uses it, somedays he doesn’t. Either way, he does the best he can with the best he has.”

“So that’s why you want to build a prosthetic that grows with a kid,” Shiro said. “Because of Neil.”

Pidge nodded. “Because of Neil.”

“Are you going to invite him to the showcase, then? I bet he would love to see it.”

“Yeah, but he lives on the other side of the country now, and he and his husband have a young daughter and he has full-time job and all that stuff. I know he’d fly out for it, and I’d love for him to come, but only if it will work well on his end. I understand if he can’t.”

There was silence between them again. She watched Shiro as she ate the rest of the food on her plate. He seemed like he was on the verge of asking her something, debating, looking up and down, left and right, then down again and then finally,

“Pidge? Can I ask you one more question?”

“Of course.”

Shiro looked up at her and stared her right in the eyes. “My prosthetic. You designed it, or helped your mother design it, didn’t you? You created it, didn’t you?”

Pidge swallowed, the bite of rice sliding slowly down her throat, perhaps threatening to choke her.

He… He figured it out.

She closed her eyes.

“Yes, Shiro, I did.”


	34. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's (sort of) Shiro's birthday! *party blower noise*
> 
> Sorry in advance for the angst....

He knew what she was going to say. Or, at least, he hoped that she was going to tell the truth.

But now she had.

And he didn’t know what to do. His mind was completely numb, his entire body numb, except for his pounding heart and the throbbing of the nerve endings in his stump.

Pidge had made his prosthetic.

“The design of your arm, it’s mine. My mom helped fine-tune some of the details. My mom’s name is on the patent. But it is my design.” She said softly. “The summer of my freshman year of high school, I ended up as an intern at Mom’s office. It didn’t start as something big, it was just really something to keep me busy, because Matt was going off to camp that year and I didn’t want to be at home alone. But, then I started kind of doodling and making calculations and by the end of the first month, I had a completed design. Like I said, Mom helped with some of the stuff I didn’t know, stuff I would only know if I had gone to school for it and that sort of thing. But for the next year we worked on prototypes together, until we had one that we were ready to test.” She bit her lip slightly, then asked, “Is there… What do you want to know?”

“Did you know?”

The words went past Shiro’s lips before he could stop them.

“When we met?” He continued. “That I received one of the prototypes?”

Pidge shook her head. “I only realized it when I fully saw your arm for the first time. That day in the library.”

Hurt and anger and a plethora of other emotions began swirling around in Shiro.

Why?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked. “Not when you first saw it, not when you were at my appointment, not even while you’ve been working on this project for the showcase. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to say, Shiro?” Pidge asked with a sigh. “ ‘Oh, hey, this sounds totally weird but I made your arm, you’re welcome’? There’s no way to just casually throw that into a conversation. And you never gave me any reason to tell you. After all, you hate it.”

Shiro swallowed, feeling like he had gotten a punch to the gut at the combination of emotions in Pidge’s voice. Sadness, hurt, and a bit of bitterness.

“I don’t hate it,” Shiro argued.

“Well, you’re not comfortable about it,” Pidge said. “Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been so self-conscious about the stupid thing. You don’t like anything to do with your arm, especially attention. You even told me that yourself, that’s why you always cover it up.”

He resisted the urge to look down at his gloved hand, his forearm covered by his jacket.

“And if I had told you, that I designed your arm, I… I didn’t want what I thought was going to happen. I didn’t want it to happen again.” Pidge continued.

“Didn’t want what to happen again?” Shiro asked.

She stared at him, her eyes both soft and hard, like a chunk of chewy caramel. “You avoiding me. I didn’t want you to avoid me again.”

Shiro shook his head. “I haven’t avoided you.”

Pidge’s lips pursed. “Yes, you did. When I first saw your arm, you did your best to avoid me. You wouldn’t even look at me! If I told you then that I made it, you would have never spoken to me again. Or that I was just trying to use you for my showcase project.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that!” Shiro insisted. “And I wouldn’t have done that!”

Pidge was quiet for a moment, simply staring at him. Then she shook her head, her next words sending an arrow straight into his heart.

“Two months ago, you definitely would have. And right now… Even now, I’m not so sure.”

It hurt. A lot. Because he couldn’t deny it.

“Hey, Shiro! Hey, Pidge!”

They both turned to see Lance and Keith approach, shopping bags dangling from their arms and carrying trays with pizza and sodas. Both Shiro and Pidge made small noises of acknowledgement.

“Mind if we join you?” Lance asked, already setting his tray down on the nearby table.

“Sure,” Shiro said, watching as Keith and Lance moved the table closer. He frowned as he took a look at Keith’s plate, noticing that it wasn’t as piled on as normal. “Only one slice, Keith?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, dragging over a chair. “What? Aren’t you the one who is always preaching to me about serving sizes and balanced diet and whatever?”

“Don’t be too impressed,” Lance said before biting into his breadstick. Still chewing, he gestured to Keith with the bitten-off breadstick and said, “He also downed three cookies, two pretzels—one regular and one cinnamon sugar—and a strawberry smoothie over the last hour and a half.”

Shiro groaned. “Really, Keith?”

Keith just shrugged and took another bite of his pizza. “Technically, I only ate half of a cinnamon-sugar pretzel. Lance and I split it.”

That didn’t make Shiro feel any better, or any less concerned about Keith’s health and dietary habits.

Well. At least Keith knew to cut himself off. Or, maybe Shiro’s wish that Keith was a little less of a bottomless pit was finally being granted.

Lance suddenly frowned at Pidge and Shiro. “Uh, you two okay?”

“Yes,” Shiro and Pidge both said tersely. They quickly exchanged a glance, then looked elsewhere, Shiro off to the side and Pidge down at her plate, picking up the skewer of dango.

“You sure?” Lance asked hesitantly, an eyebrow arching. “You both look a little, uh…”

“It’s been a long day,” Pidge said a bit snappishly. “We’re tired. We had classes this morning, then we traveled, then we shopped. We’re ready for this day to be over.”

_Understatement,_ Shiro thought. He grabbed his own dango, nibbling on the green-tea flavored dumpling on the end.

Lance glanced over at Keith, who shrugged, then he said, “Okay then. What did you guys find?”

There was neutral territory, showing each other what they had found. Too soon, everyone had finished eating, and Lance’s phone buzzed with a text from Hunk as they were gathering trash.

“Hunk and Shay are heading back to our meeting place,” Lance reported as Pidge checked her own phone.

“Matt and Allura are heading here, to get something to-go,” She said. She gestured over to the nearby Nestle-Tollhouse stand and said, “I’m going to go get some cookies to take back. Watch my stuff?”

“Sure,” Lance said.

Shiro watched her go, blinking slowly, like he was in a daze.

Pidge, who was equally Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

Pidge, who was both bitingly sarcastic and one of the kindest people he knew.

Pidge, who was smart and nice and a great friend.

Pidge, who wanted to help people.

Pidge… Who designed his arm.

Was that all he was going to be able to think of every time that he looked at her now? Just see her and remember how heavy his arm felt? How he rebelled and pushed it away, taking weeks in order to even look at it for longer than a few seconds? Relive the awkward jerks and spasms of learning to use it for the first time? Feel his nerve endings pound and scream with pain? Or, worse, feel that burning sensation that he could not relieve where his elbow should have been, that tingling that went all the way down to his fingers that were now gone?

He loved her.

Shiro loved Pidge. He knew this, with all of his heart and all of his mind.

But was his mind going to be able to separate his metal limb from the girl he loved, every single time he looked at her?

Right now, he was too overwhelmed.

Pidge designed his arm.

Pidge built his arm.

Pidge knew that he bore her work. She knew, and she didn’t tell him.

Because she was afraid that he would avoid her. That he would distance himself from her. That he wouldn’t even look at her. That he would feel indebted to her.

That he would hate her.

And he felt horrible, because he couldn’t deny it. Deny it with all of his heart.

He couldn’t deny that the worst possible pain, the trauma he relived in his nightmares, was tied to the girl that he loved. And that he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Shiro?”

Shiro jerked, turning to look at Keith. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Keith asked slowly, studying him.

“I’m fine,” Shiro lied. “Just… Tired.”

Keith stared at him, blinking slowly like a cat. Then he just nodded once. “Yeah. It’s getting late. We’ve got an early morning.”

Shiro was glad that they had rejoined the others; that there was enough chatter and laughter to distract and deflect.

He was so glad to be in the hotel room he was sharing with Keith and Lance, glad that the early morning was reason enough to quickly change into pajamas and go to sleep. The bed was huge compared to the twin bed he had back in his apartment, and he would have it all to himself. The sheets were soft, the mattress just right. It was inviting, beckoning. Sleep, and be numb to the world. No thoughts but dreams.

Dreams did not come.

The nightmares came in droves.

_Explosions that he knew were in the distance but yet so incredibly close. Voices in his ear, muffled. The whole world shaking around him. He couldn’t stay steady. He was hit, he was going down…_

_Pain. So much pain. He couldn’t move. His right arm was on fire, either metaphorically or literally he couldn’t tell. Through his lashes, he saw scarlet blood dripping in front of him. He couldn’t breathe._

_Voices._

_“He’s got a pulse!”_

_“Dammit, his arm’s pinned. Johnson, get the—”_

_“We don’t have time for that! He’s losing too much blood!”_

_No, he wanted to tell the voices. No, don’t do it…_

_He couldn’t speak, his heart in his throat. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything._

_He couldn’t even scream._

_No no no no no no no no no—_

“Shiro! Shiro, wake up!”

Shiro jolted awake with a gasp, sitting bolt upright and head-butting Keith, who jerked backwards and almost fell off the bed to avoid being hit.

He was on high alert as he took in the surroundings.

Unfamiliar room, unfamiliar bed… The last time he woke up like this he was…

He blinked slowly, then looked over at Keith, kneeling on the mattress beside him, concern etched on his face. Lance stood behind him, hesitant and unsure of what to do, wringing his hands slightly.

On the desk, his prosthetic sat innocently in the dark. Moonlight snuck past the closed curtains to make the metal gleam.

In the corner of the room, there were three broomsticks and a bag full of balls and hoops.

Quidditch.

They were traveling for Quidditch. He was in a hotel room, and he was sharing that room with Keith and Lance.

“Hey,” Keith said gently, breaking the silence. “You okay? Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” Shiro whispered in a hoarse voice, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault you had a crappy dream, dude,” Lance said, a lightness in his tone of voice that didn’t even seem forced.

“Sorry I woke you two,” Shiro reiterated. “Go back to sleep.”

“Shiro—” Keith started to say.

“Good night,” Shiro said, grabbing the blankets and pulling them over himself, rolling over onto his side. He heard Keith sigh and felt the mattress shift. Whispers could be heard on the other side of the room.

“Is he okay?”

“No, but he’s not going to let either of us do anything for him when he gets like this.”

“Does this happen often?”

There was silence.

“It was getting better. He was getting better.”

“Hey, you did everything you could. Just try to go back to sleep, okay?”

“… ‘kay.”

The sounds of even, sleep-filled breathing soon filled the room.

It was several hours later until Shiro joined in making those sounds.


	35. Pidge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Pidgey!

Pidge stared at the timer for the waffle maker, watching it slowly count down. She had a feeling that the warm waffle, slathered with butter and syrup, was going to be necessary to face the day. And she wasn’t just talking about the Quidditch match.

When she got back to the room she was sharing with Allura and Shay, and Allura had asked how her evening had been, everything had tumbled out of her: that she made Shiro’s arm, and how Shiro hated it, and that he had figured out she made his arm, and now he probably hated her.

“There is no way Shiro hates you,” Shay assured Pidge, making her sit down on the bed.

“He’s going to avoid me, though, I just know it,” Pidge said, kicking the floor lightly with the toe of her shoe. “He did that before, after I saw it for the first time and realized that it was the one I made.”

“But he stopped,” Allura pointed out, folding her legs in front of her as she sat on top of the other bed. “So, yes, Shiro might avoid you, but I do not think it is possible for him to hate you.”

“Allura, that may not be as helpful of a statement as you want it to be,” Shay said gently as she rubbed Pidge’s back. “Look, I’m pretty sure Shiro will give you some space, and he’ll need you to give him some space. He’s probably got a lot of emotions to sort out. Just be patient with him, and it’ll be alright.”

Pidge nodded glumly, ate a peanut butter cookie to try to go to sleep happy, and crawled into bed.

She thought she hadn’t slept very well. Until she saw Shiro, then she realized she slept like a rock compared to him.

No one dared mention the elephant in the breakfast room, which was a quiet Shiro, dark purple bags under his eyes, sitting still at a corner table, staring down at his cup of tea, a bagel resting on a plate beside him.

So far, the plan seemed to let him stress out in peace. Though one of the elderly ladies who was part of a tour group staying at the hotel seemed to take pity on him, and put one of those pamphlets about Jesus on the table beside him along with a couple of pieces of hard candy, patted him on the shoulder and told him in a low voice that God had not abandoned him and would not let him suffer forever though it may feel like it and that she’d be praying for him or something to that effect.

“Uh, is Shiro okay?” Hunk asked in a low voice. “This isn’t his usual pre-match stressing.”

No one, not even Keith, had an answer. No one had seen Shiro like this before. But, still, he rose from the table—slowly, as if he had aged a thousand years in the half-hour he had been sitting there—to go get their bags and equipment when it was time to go.

The drive to Amblin in both vehicles was eerily quiet but fortunately short.

However, the only thing that snapped Shiro back into reality was the cars in Amblin’s parking lot.

More specifically, the stickers that adorned the backs of two cars, parked side by side. In the lower right corner of each window was a square, purple sticker with Galra Tech’s emblem on it.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Lance yelled, his knees bent, arms outstretched towards the vehicles in disbelief.

“Maybe they transferred and forgot to take their parking tags off?” Hunk said optimistically. “Or, I don’t know, maybe isn’t actually members of the Quidditch team and they’re here to visit someone?”

“Right,” Matt said dryly. “And they just conveniently also have ‘Make America Goth Again’ and ‘My Other Car is a Broom’ stickers on their car? Just like Haggar does?”

“And a vanity plate that has Lotor’s name on it?” Pidge added, arching an eyebrow as she pointed with her broom.

“Okay,” Hunk conceded. “It’s most likely the Galra Tech Quidditch Team…”

“They’re wasting gas money to just come torment us,” Allura said, scowling.

“We’re going to make them regret that decision,” Shiro said grimly. “Let’s go, team.”

The Altea Lions Quidditch Team made it to the pitch, stretching and warming up and greeting the members of Amblin’s team, captained by a girl named Luxia. Her co-captain was a boy who introduced himself as Blumfump, but his teammates looked annoyed and his teammate Plaxum stage-whispered that his name was really Al.

Almost too soon, the teams were ready to play. The whistle was blown and the Quaffle was live.

Despite being under the watchful gaze of the Galra team—who did nothing to hide their presence, heckling the players from Altea in the stands—the Lions fared pretty well. When the Snitch was released, they were in the lead by twenty points.

Which, in all honesty, was somewhat surprising, since their Keeper and Captain seemed to be always on the verge of falling asleep in front of his hoops and distracted. He wasn’t calling out to the team as much as he usually did during matches. Shay picked up Shiro’s slack, though, yelling at various members about positions and openings.

But then there was a massive game-changer.

Plaxum and Blumfump/Al were passing the Quaffle, headed for Altea’s goals. Plaxum through the Quaffle towards a hoop.

Shiro—thanks to a lot of yelling from Shay and the rest of the team—seemed suddenly awake enough to make a lunge for the ball.

No, that wasn’t accurate.

He made a _dive_ for the ball.

The rest of the team could only watch as Shiro hit the ground, hard, the goal saved.

And it was with a jolt that Pidge realized that the shoulder Shiro landed so hard on, putting practically all his weight on, was his right shoulder.

Shiro did not get up right away, and the ref blew the whistle, coming over to check on Shiro along with Allura and Keith. After a quick check to make sure Shiro had neither a concussion nor a dislocated shoulder, Shiro made some motions that indicated that he was insisting he was fine and the ref let play resume.

The right side was once again Shiro’s weak side. It came to the advantage of Amblin, as they put the Quaffle through the hoops three more times. Shiro was moving even slower now, and seemed to be in pain whenever he stretched out with his right arm.

Pidge had never felt more relieved to see the yellow Snitch dangling from Lance’s hand when the whistle blew mid-play.

Amblin had been leading, but with the catching of the Snitch, Altea won the game.

“Well, that was only a mild disaster,” Allura mumbled as the team went to meet up at their bench after shaking hands.

Shiro was swaying now, as Shay and Hunk tried to lead him to the bench and to drink some water. He still kept mumbling “I’m fine” even when it was really clear that he wasn’t.

And just because things weren’t at an ultimate, high peak of ‘worst’, a voice called from behind Pidge.

“You did not have to go to such lengths to reassure us of our impending victory.”

Everyone turned to see the Galra Tech team approach, Zarkon in the lead, Haggar at his side.

“I do believe you all are experiencing end-of-season burnout. Do not worry, we will not hold that against you when we easily take our win in two weeks’ time,” Zarkon said easily. 

“If you’re not worried, then why you drove all the way to Amblin from Galra Tech so early on a Saturday morning, huh?” Lance said, arching an eyebrow, arms crossed.

“Our intentions and plans are so intricate and expansive, that your tiny brain cannot possibly comprehend them.” Haggar hissed. Though maybe she was only hissing because she was out in the daylight. To Pidge’s surprise, Haggar looked at her. “My offer is still valid, Katie. You are wasting your potentially—academically, professionally, athletically—with Altea. At Galra Tech, your horizons could be expanded beyond your wildest dreams.”

“And my response is still valid,” Pidge said stiffly. “I am perfectly content at Altea. Nothing you say or do will change that. Now, kindly go quiznak yourself.”

There was silent tension between the two teams.

Then Zarkon simply shrugged. “So be it. You had your chance. You all did. Now you will suffer a crushing defeat at our hands. Enjoy your win today, Altea, for it will be your last. _Very_ last.”

The Galra left, leaving the Altea team with their most hollow victory yet.

*****

The ride back to Altea was quiet, no one even singing along this time even though Lance was once more blasting _Moana_.

True to his word, Matt rode in the other car on the way home, and Shiro took Matt’s spot in the back of the van, his head rested against the window. Pidge wasn’t entirely certain, but she was fairly sure that Shiro was asleep. He hadn’t said much since the Quidditch match, and he was using his arm as little as possible, or at least not raising it very high. 

Pidge brought out one of her new books and read for a little while in the silence. At least, it was silence until she heard a muted conversation from the front seat.

“You think he’s okay?” Lance asked Keith.

“I guess? He’s asleep, so…” Keith whispered back, glancing over his shoulder at Shiro. Keith shrugged. “He didn’t take any sort of pain medicine, so that means he’s not uncomfortable, right?”

“Yeah, but he was dead asleep last night until he started shouting.” Keith didn’t respond to that, and Lance then asked, “Is it usually that bad?”

“Not lately. When it, well, back then, it happened a lot. It’s gotten a lot less frequent over the last few months.” Keith paused, then said, “I should have made him take off the prosthetic before we left the parking lot. He shouldn’t sleep with it on.”

“Yeah, but you know how weird he gets about it,” Lance pointed out. Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge saw Lance take a hand off the steering wheel and take Keith’s hand. “Look, he’s going to be okay. He’s allowed to have bad days. One bad day, one nightmare, isn’t going to make him regress, okay? He’s going to be fine. If he’s not, well, then he’s got you, and me, and your parents, and your brother and sister, and the whole entire quiznaking team to help him out.”

“Guess you’re right. Still. Hate feeling so helpless when he’s like this.” Keith was quiet for a moment, then, his whisper became somewhat dark and hard. “Nothing is worth Shiro’s pain.”

Pidge saw Lance give Keith’s hand a squeeze, then returned his hand to the wheel.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. Lance dropped Pidge off on Altea’s campus, Keith helping her get her duffle bag and broom out before Lance drove away to take Shiro and Keith home. Pidge, Matt and Hunk said good-bye to Allura and Shay, the former of whom was going to take the latter home, then parted towards their own dorms. 

However, Pidge had barely started to unpack when her cellphone rang. She frowned in confusion at seeing Lance’s name, then swiped to answer the call. “Hey, Lance, what’s up?”

“Pidge, this is going to sound really weird,” Lance said. “But any chance you’re available for me to come pick you back up and bring you over here?”

Pidge frowned. “Um, I guess? Why?”

She heard Lance take a deep breath then start to explain. “I’ll explain better in the car, but all I really know is that there’s something wrong with Shiro’s prosthetic, and he’s insisting that you’re the only one who knows how to fix it.”

Pidge’s blood ran cold. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know! Look, I’ll be back there as soon as I can, I’ll call you when I’m in front of your dorm, okay?”

Pidge agreed and ended the call, heart pounding, brain whirring.

Something was wrong with Shiro’s prosthetic. And he wanted her to fix it.

Waiting for Lance wasn’t the hard part. Him driving the ten minutes back to Shiro and Keith’s apartment was.

By now, Pidge had been riding in the car with Lance driving enough to know that Lance only drove with Disney music playing. But now the radio was silent, the only sound being their breathing and Lance’s fingers tapping on the steering wheel anxiously whenever the light was red or they were at a stop sign. And they seemed to hit every single red light and there were always a ton of cars that needed to pass before he could legally go past the stop sign.

They were nearly there, then Lance said, “I shouldn’t have left. I should have called Hunk or Matt to bring you. Shiro was freaking out and not making sense, and that’s got to be making Keith stressed—he was already stressed and worried over Shiro—and if Keith’s really stressed, he might have a shut-down. So Shiro may be having a panic attack and Keith may be having a shut down right now. And if that’s what we walk into, I don’t know what to do, who to take care of first. And, oh God, if you get stressed and have a shut-down, I really don’t know what to do.”

“Lance, it’ll be okay,” Pidge promised. “When we get there, I’ll take care of Shiro and you take care of Keith. That’s what we’ll do. Can you tell me what’s wrong with Shiro’s prosthetic?”

Lance turned on his blinker with a slight sigh. “Look, all I know is that we sent Shiro upstairs to get lights on and the door open and go rest and stuff while we brought up the bags. Except we get up there and Captain Purr-Card is seriously freaking out, pacing and meowing in front of the bedroom door and then comes out of nowhere and starts scratching Keith’s leg. Keith yelled because he wasn’t expecting it and because he tripped into the coffee table as a result, and then Shiro comes out, freaking out and not making sense except saying that his arm won’t come off and that he needs you and here we are.”

Pidge wasn’t certain if he meant ‘here we are’ as in ‘this is why we are currently doing this’ or if he meant ‘here we are’ as in ‘we are pulling into the parking lot now’.

Maybe it was both.

The car was soon put in park, and Pidge followed Lance up to the apartment. Lance knocked on the door, only to hear Keith call “It’s unlocked!” and Lance pushed open the door. They found Keith sitting on the coffee table, Shiro sitting on the couch, Keith’s hands on Shiro’s knees, his phone on one side and an orange medication bottle on the other. Shiro was staring down at Keith’s hands, still but breathing heavily.

Keith looked over his shoulder and jerked his head slightly, beckoning them closer, then turned back to Shiro. “Okay, Pidge is here now. Will you let her look at the prosthetic now?” Shiro slowly nodded. “I’m going to stand up and let her come over. And I’m going to tell her what’s happened since Lance left and what you’ve taken, alright?”

Another nod, this one slower and more hesitant.

Keith scooched over on the table, grabbing both his phone and the medicine bottle as he went, then stood up, approaching Pidge. “Okay, he had a panic attack. I gave him a dose of valium—safe to take with pain meds, but he hasn’t asked for the stronger meds or any generic ones—and made him drink a glass of cold water, so he’s a little calmer now. ”

Pidge nodded. “Okay, I’ll go see what I can do.”

Keith nodded. “Thanks.” He lifted his hand with the pill bottle. “I’m going to put this away. I’ll be right back.”

Pidge went over and sat down where Keith had sat on the coffee table. “Hey, Shiro. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Won’t come off,” Shiro mumbled. Then he laughed, darkly and a bit maniacally. “Irony, right? Nightmares about losing the arm, living a nightmare in which it won’t come off. Can’t win, can I?”

“It’s alright,” Pidge said soothingly, though his words sent a shiver down her spine. “Are you in pain?”

“It’s tight,” Shiro responded. “Hurts a bit. But it’s mostly tight.”

“Okay,” Pidge said. “Will you let me touch your arm? Both the prosthetic and the residual limb?”

Shiro nodded and Pidge gently pulled back the sleeve of his t-shirt. She scowled and winced. Shiro’s upper arm was swollen, red closer to his shoulder but white where the prosthetic met flesh. No wonder he couldn’t get it off. Even with the compression sock, his residual limb had taken a beating earlier thanks to his fall.

“Your arm is swollen, and we need to reduce the swelling,” Pidge said gently. “You’ve only taken the valium Keith gave you, right? Nothing else? No Tylenol or aspirin or anything?” Shiro shook his head. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to give you a pain reliever, and that should help bring the swelling down a little. We’re also going to put some ice in a bag or a cloth and put it where your residual limb meets the prosthetic for the same reason. This we may have to do for only a short period of time, and repeat, because we don’t need you getting hypothermia where the metal meets flesh, okay? And we’re going to elevate your arm as well. Got it?”

“Got it,” Shiro affirmed.

“But above all, I need you to relax. Tension and a high blood pressure aren’t going to help at all. We’ll put on a movie, or something. And keep hydrated, and maybe some food too.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Shiro asked.

“Then we call my mom and do whatever she says to do,” Pidge said. “And if that is ‘get to the hospital ASAP’, that’s what we’re going to do.”

Shiro nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright,” Pidge said.

While Keith found the Tylenol Pidge requested, and she got a glass of water, a Ziploc bag full of ice, and a clean dishcloth, Lance turned on the television and talked to Shiro in order to distract him about what they should watch. Ultimately, Lance’s channel flipping landed on the channel that ran _Harry Potter_ movie marathons practically every weekend.

“Nobody likes _Harry Potter_ movies like ABC Family likes _Harry Potter_ movies,” Lance commented as he set down the remote as the opening sequence for _Half-Blood Prince_ played on the screen, then pulled out his phone to order a pizza for dinner.

By the time Harry, Ron and Hermione were in their first potions lesson with Professor Slughorn, the pizza had arrived and a majority of the swelling had gone down to Pidge’s relief.

Keith slowly ate a slice of pizza, then picked at the pepperoni on his second slice. After a few minutes of doing that and being incredibly quiet, he stood up suddenly, blurting out, “I need a break.”

“Do you want company?” Lance asked as Keith headed towards the bedroom. Keith didn’t answer, closing the door behind him. “Okay. Guessing that’s a no.”

“He’ll be fine,” Shiro said. “It’s usually better for him if he removes himself from a stressful situation before it gets to be too much.”

With that, Lance settled back down onto the couch with a sigh. Then he looked over at Pidge. “What about you, Pidge? You good? Need a break?”

“No, I’m fine,” Pidge said.

Lance nodded, then started clearing up the dishes. “I’ll take care of the leftovers and dishes. Get a new bag of ice and another cloth, and refill the water glasses.”

Pidge and Shiro both thanked him, and Lance disappeared into the kitchen with an armload.

There was a beat of silence between Pidge and Shiro, with the background noise of Gryffindor celebrating their Quidditch win, and then Pidge decided to be brave.

“Are we… are we good?”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked, glancing over at her with an eyebrow raised.

Pidge licked her lips and tried again. “Are we friends again?”

“We’ve always been friends.” Shiro countered.

“You know what I mean. After… After last night.”

Shiro hesitated, then said, “Yeah, Pidge. We’re good. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. And then did it again today… It’s just… I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. It’s kind of a lot of to process. Thinking too hard about anything to do with the prosthetic just brings back a lot of bad memories. Makes it harder to forget.”

Pidge simply nodded. “I get that. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“Kind of is.” Shiro didn’t respond to that. So Pidge continued after a moment, “Let’s see if we can get this off now.”

It took some gentle tugging, but they were able to remove the prosthetic, both breathing sighs of relief.

“Let’s keep some ice on the residual limb to help the swelling,” Pidge said, placing the new bag of ice Lance had brought them on Shiro’s arm. “And you probably shouldn’t use the prosthetic for a few days. I’ll text my mom and ask her to send you a note you can give your boss.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said, relief heavy in his tone. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

“Anytime, Shiro,” Pidge said, smiling at him. “Anytime.”


	36. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know all of the angst of this story? Yeah, that's all going to be tame in comparison to this chapter and the ones following. I have referred to this particular chapter in my notes as a two-for-one whump special.
> 
> Trigger warnings for mentions of blood, vomit, hospital stuff and panic attacks.

Shiro believed that there should be a law, banning all restaurants from promising all-you-can-eat buffets. Or, at least, a law that banned Keith from accepting those challenges.

He frowned at Keith, curled up in his bed, blanket over his head, groaning slightly. Shiro was trying really, really hard to have grace and patience. But it was the morning before their match with Galra Tech, and Shiro had been dealing with a sick Keith for the last day and a half, trailing after him with a sigh whenever Keith rushed to the bathroom to throw-up again and feeding him Tums in attempts to soothe the pain in his stomach, forcing him to drink water and Gatorade so he didn’t get dehydrated. But a sick Keith was not an easy Keith to deal with.

Which was probably why words infused with bitterness came out of his mouth.

“I sure do hope eating that much fried chicken was worth it.” Shiro snapped, slightly slamming down the water bottle on Keith’s bedside table, feeling a little guilty when he flinched. Shiro turned on his heel and grabbed his backpack. “I’m going to class, text if you need anything.”

If Keith said something, Shiro didn’t hear it as he walked out the door.

He was tired. And stressed. And he really didn’t want to think about what would happen if Keith was still sick by the following morning. They couldn’t play a man-down, they couldn’t forfeit, and he doubted the Galra would be generous enough to let them reschedule.

Shiro could hardly focus through his class, trying his hardest to take notes.

But something, a little niggling that was slowly getting bigger, was filling him up inside.

Guilt.

He regretted snapping at Keith, would have to apologize and find a way to make it up to him. Even if it was Keith’s fault for over-doing it on all-you-can-eat night at the local buffet restaurant, and over-doing it to the point that he was still suffering on Friday morning.

He resolved to go back to the apartment to check on Keith after his class was over, and couldn’t wait for the professor to finally release the class.

Shiro was walking through the halls, not really focused on where he was but rather thinking about where he was going, when he bumped into someone.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, then blinked in surprise when he saw who he bumped into. “Oh, Lance. Sorry, really didn’t see you there.”

“It’s cool,” Lance said, tugging an earbud out, twirling the cord around his finger. He frowned suddenly. “How’s Keith feeling today? Any better?”

Shiro shook his head. “Not really. I’m going to check up on him now.”

“Tell him I’ll come over after my next class,” Lance said.

“He’d probably appreciate that,” Shiro said. “But, Lance? You and I have got to do better about reigning Keith in, since his eyes tend to be bigger than his stomach.”

Lance’s frowned deepened, the skin between his eyebrows creasing. “What are you talking about? I thought Keith had a stomach bug or something?”

Shiro stared at him, confused. “I… I thought he just ate too much. The other night, when he went with you and Hunk to _Sal’s_?”

Lance shook his head. “No. He barely ate anything. Said he wasn’t feeling too great, hadn’t had much of an appetite that day.”

Guilt crushed Shiro like a cartoon anvil, and a coldness flooded through him.

Not only had he been an ass to Keith, he had falsely accused Keith of something.

“Shiro? You okay?” Lance asked cautiously. “You’re not going to start puking, too, are you?”

“No,” Shiro mumbled. “I’ll see you later, Lance. I’m going to back to Keith.”

With that, he began to move faster towards his car, going at a dead sprint at one point, which earned him a mocking voice yell at him that he was both late and lost because the classrooms were the other way.

The entire elevator ride up to his apartment, Shiro alternately cursed himself and thought of ways to apologize to Keith.

He was pulling out his apartment key when he heard a sound from inside that sounded odd. Loud meowing. Almost yowling. Captain Purr-Card was a fairly talkative cat as far as cats went, but even then Shiro had never heard him be this loud.

And for some reason, that only made him move faster, slamming the door shut behind him, not even stopping to take of his shoes.

“Keith!” Shiro called, hoping to keep the fear out of his tone and failing.

Captain Purr-Card came running towards Shiro, pouncing on his shoe, something he hadn’t done since he was a kitten. The cat looked up and let out a loud meow before rushing back towards the bedroom. Dropping his backpack to the floor, Shiro followed.

“Keith!” He called as he ran.

He got to the doorway and gasped, his eyes wide. Keith was lying on the floor, curled up into a ball, shaking, his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. When Shiro dropped to his knees beside Keith, he felt his heart jolt at hearing Keith’s labored breathing, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Keith whimpered and recoiled when Shiro touched his shoulder. Through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, Shiro could feel Keith’s skin and how hot he was.

“Keith, Keith, open your eyes and look at me, okay?” Shiro begged.

Keith did so, looking at Shiro with glassy eyes. “Hurts,” He groaned. “Stomach. Really hurts…”

“It’s okay,” Shiro blurted out, hand going for his cellphone in his pocket. “You’re going to be okay.”

With trembling fingers, Shiro quickly unlocked his phone and dialed three digits, his own breathing shaky as he listened to it ring.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” A woman’s voice asked calmly.

“I need an ambulance.”

“Sir, is this for you or for someone else?”

“My brother. Abdominal pain, he’s been throwing up, he’s really pale and clammy. He’s got a really high fever.”

“Sir, I need you to remain calm. I’m dispatching an ambulance now. May I have the address?” Shiro rambled it off. “Thank you. Can you tell me your brother’s name and how old he is? Any medications he’s on? And is he conscious?”

“Keith Kwan, twenty, not on medication but has been taking antacid tablets, and—hang on,” Shiro brushed some of Keith’s hair out of his eyes. “Keith, are you awake?”

“Mmph,” Keith mumbled, opening his eyes again a crack.

“He’s kind of in and out?” Shiro said, feeling panic continue to rise in him. “I don’t know what to do.”

“And that’s alright. You don’t have to know what to do. This isn’t something you have to do on a daily basis. That’s why I’m here, and why the EMTs are on their way.” The operator said soothingly. “There was actually a team really close by, so they’ll be there soon. What’s your name?”

“Takashi, but everyone calls me Shiro.”

“Alright then, Shiro. Listen, the best thing you can do right now is remain calm. I’m getting a notice from the ambulance crew that they are getting buzzed in by your building manager now. Everything’s going to be alright. Now, is the front door unlocked? You may have to leave Keith’s side to let in the EMTs.”

“I… I don’t remember, I just got home and found him like this…” Shiro said, still staring down at Keith, who had his eyes open slightly but not entirely focused.

“Go check the door now. I’m going to stay on the line with you until the EMTs arrive, okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro said, shakily getting to his feet. He got to the door—still unlocked—and opened it just in time as a tall middle-aged Latina woman and a burly black man about a decade younger arrived at the door. Shiro directed them towards the bedroom and told the 911 operator that the EMTs had arrived, thanking her.

He stepped back into the room to find the woman—Trigel, Shiro learned as her partner introduced himself as Blaytz—kneeling on the floor beside Keith, attempting to coax him out of his ball.

“Keith’s autistic,” Shiro explained. “When he gets really stressed out, he sometimes has non-verbal episodes and has a shut down.”

Trigel looked up at him and nodded. “My little niece is autistic, too. I’m familiar with shut downs and melt downs.” Then she addressed Keith. “You don’t have to give a verbal answer, but can you show me where the pain is?” Keith shifted slightly, putting his hand somewhere Shiro couldn’t see. He could, however, see Trigel frown. “Keith, I need you to roll over onto your back so I can examine that area, and so that Blaytz can get your vital signs. Can you do that for me? I know it will hurt to move, but we really need you to do that.”

Trigel looked at Shiro and beckoned him over, gesturing for him to move to Keith’s other side. “Keith, your brother and I are going to get you onto your back. Will you help us?”

Keith nodded slowly. Shiro gently tugged on Keith’s arm and he and Trigel moved Keith onto his back, even though it was clear by Keith’s scrunched up face that it hurt him to be gently moved out of his fetal position.

Blaytz brought over equipment. “Can you open your mouth for me, Keith? I just need to get your temp.”

Keith did so, and Blaytz placed a digital thermometer connected to a hand-held device into Keith’s mouth before wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Keith’s upper arm. A moment later, the thermometer beeped and Shiro caught a flicker of surprise in Blaytz’s eyes before he schooled his expression back into a calm, professional look and took a note before checking on Keith’s blood pressure. Meanwhile, Trigel asked Shiro what Keith had taken recently; Shiro gave the same response to her that he had the 911 call-taker, and Keith gave a small shake of his head when asked if he had taken anything else while Shiro had been at class.

“Keith, I’m going to tell you what I’m about to do,” Trigel said once Blaytz moved his equipment back. “I’m going to put some pressure on your abdomen. There are two possibilities when I release that pressure. The pain will either lessen, or it will get worse. I need you to give me some indicator as to which it is, alright? I’m going to tell you everything I’m going to do before I do it.”

Keith griped Shiro’s hand tightly, knuckles already white, his eyes glassy as he stared up at the ceiling and nodded, licking his lips slightly.

“Alright,” Trigel said, placing her hands on the lower right portion of Keith’s stomach. “I’m applying pressure now. And… release.”

Shiro watched in wide-eyed horror, his blood running cold as ice as Keith threw his head back and let out a guttural, pain-filled scream, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

Shiro had never heard Keith make such a sound before, had never seen Keith cry over physical pain before. Had never seen Keith in such agony before. It terrified him, and his guilt returned ten-fold because he was too stunned and too scared to offer any words of comfort to Keith.

“I’m sorry,” Trigel said soothingly. “I’m so sorry, Keith.” Then she looked up at her partner. “Radio ahead so they can get a bed ready and alert radiology.” Blaytz nodded and grabbed the radio on his shoulder, speaking in a stream of words Shiro knew were words in the English language but his brain could not comprehend.

“What’s going on?” Shiro asked, feeling blank and hollow. “What’s wrong with Keith?”

“My diagnosis is appendicitis, and I’d be surprised if it hasn’t ruptured by now,” Trigel said, reaching over and grabbing her bag. “We’re going to get him to the ER for a more definite diagnosis, but emergency surgery is most likely the next course of action.” She looked up at Shiro. “Is there anyone you need to call? Your parents or friends?”

“Parents,” Shiro said, nodding. “Yes. I’ll call them. Which hospital?”

“Memorial,” Blatyz answered.

Shiro nodded, but looked down at feeling Keith tug on his hand. Still breathing heavily and his eyes wide, Keith lifted his free hand, extending his pointer finger and thumb, the other three fingers curled down. It took Shiro a second to recognize the shape Keith’s hand was making, the American Sign Language sign for ‘L’. Even though Keith’s nonverbal episodes were few and far between, he and the Shiroganes had all learned a few basic words in ASL along with the alphabet for times such as these.

“Lance?” Shiro asked. Keith nodded. “Yeah, I’ll call Lance, too.”

Squeezing Keith’s hand and feeling awful for leaving him, Shiro stepped into the living room, pacing as he listened to the ringing sound on his phone, silently begging his mother to pick up as Trigel got Keith ready for transfer and Blatyz ran down to get the stretcher.

“ _Moshi-moshi, Takashi,_ ” His mother greeted him jovially.

And Shiro found himself unable to speak.

“Takashi?” His mother repeated, a bit of concern now coloring her voice. 

“ _’Kaa-San_ ,” He got out. Suddenly, he was shaking all over and the words came tumbling out in his native tongue, though scrambled and almost random. He knew the words ‘Keith’ and ‘hospital’ and ‘ambulance’ came out, though in no particular sense-making order.

“ _Takashi, Takashi calm down this instant!_ ” His mother scolded. “ _Deep breaths. Remember what the doctors said. One, two, three in._ ”

At those words, Shiro reacted almost unconsciously, breathing in.

“ _And one, two, three out._ ” His mother said. “ _Now, what is going on?_ ”

“ _Keith’s being taken to Memorial Hospital by ambulance right now,_ ” Shiro said. “ _The paramedic thinks it’s his appendix._ ”

He didn’t have to say anything more.

“ _I will meet you there,_ ” His mother said, her voice both firm and betraying her worry. “ _I’ll call your father and ask him to pick up Mitsu. Call her school to let them know to release her. Text Shinji—he’s driving here now, but he’ll check his texts whenever he stops…_ ”

Blaytz got Shiro’s attention, letting him know they were getting ready to move out. “ _Can you text Lance, too?_ ” Shiro asked quickly. “ _Keith wanted me to talk to him, but they’re ready to take Keith down to the ambulance…_ ”

“ _I’ll text Lance,_ ” His mother said, and he could practically see her nodding. “ _You focus on Keith. I’ll see you both there._ ”

Shiro said his good-bye and hung up, stepping back over to where the stretcher was. Keith—now connected to IV fluids and getting strapped in, the red and gold no-sew blanket Mitsu had made for Keith’s last birthday covering his pajama-clad legs and bare feet—still looked rather dazed, his face incredibly pale. Shiro came to his side, giving his fingers a squeeze.

“You doing alright, Keith?” He asked. Keith didn’t respond. Shiro swallowed. “Don’t worry, buddy. Just hang on, we’ll be at the hospital soon. Haha’s going to meet us there.”

“Alright, let’s roll out,” Blaytz said, using his foot to unlock the brakes of the stretcher wheels.

After Blaytz and Trigel maneuvered the stretcher into the elevator, Blaytz and Shiro—who couldn’t fit in as well—took the stairs, meeting them in the lobby. The building manager ran to push open the door for them to get through. Beyond that, Shiro didn’t really register much, focusing on Keith and getting Keith into the ambulance, and taking Keith’s hand again once they were inside as Blaytz hopped into the driver’s seat and Trigel sat opposite of Shiro, carefully attaching a heart monitor to Keith’s chest and checking the IV.

As soon as they were on the road, Keith’s eyes slid shut, causing a surge of panic to go through Shiro.

“Keith?” He said. “Come on, buddy, open your eyes.”

“Let him rest,” Trigel instructed. “He is fine. He needs to rest; his body is fighting as much as it can. Let him rest now, his vitals are fine, we’ll wake him up when we get to the ER.”

Shiro’s brain stopped being numb enough to take in the rest of his surroundings. Namely, that there was silence and that the ambulance was stopping. Shiro’s stomach knotted, knowing that even in his numb, anxiety-ridden state that they hadn’t been traveling long enough to be at the hospital already.

“Why did we stop?” He asked, looking at Trigel, then up at Blaytz, who looked in the rearview mirror and answered,

“Red light.”

“Red light?” Shiro repeated. “But you have the red lights…”

“Okay, you’re in a bit of shock, aren’t you sweetie?” Trigel said kindly.

Shiro looked at her with wide eyes. “But why are we stopping? What about the sirens?”

“We only put those on when we’re going to a call, and if the patient’s status requires us to do so on the way to the hospital,” Trigel explained. “Keith is in serious condition, but not in too much danger that we feel we need to put on the sirens. That’s a good thing.”

Here he was about to have a panic attack and she was trying to soothe him when Keith was the patient. Keith was the one with a stupidly high fever. Keith was the one whose appendix was about to burst—if it had not already done so.

If anyone should be freaking out, it should be Keith. Not Shiro.

He kept telling himself that all the way to the hospital.

Finally, they were backing up to the ambulance bay doors and Trigel and Blaytz were opening the doors and unlocking the stretcher. Keith’s eyes cracked open at the movement, blinking slowly and looking around. Shiro was too busy watching Keith to do the same, hardly noticing that there were two nurses waiting behind them until he saw a look of recognition and a small smile flash across Keith’s face.

“ _Hola_ ,” Keith croaked out, giving one of the nurses a slight wave.

 _He took French in high school, and is taking Korean now at school. Does Keith know Spanish? Is speaking in tongues a symptom?_ Shiro started to wonder, his hand going for his phone in his pocket with the full intention to check WebMD when he actually took a glance at the woman in scrubs with kittens on them, her gray-streaked chocolate brown hair tied up high in a ponytail. Then he took a deep breath, relaxing slightly upon seeing who Keith was speaking to.

“ _Hola, chico_ ,” Amrita McClain-Sanchez said, returning Keith’s smile. Shiro had completely forgotten that Lance’s mother was Memorial ER nurse, but definitely did not forget that Amrita adored Keith as if he was one of her own children. “How about we get you inside and settled?”

For the first time in two days, Keith looked genuinely relaxed as he was wheeled into the ER, but Shiro couldn’t feel the same. He had too much pent up stress and fear and guilt, and felt like a bomb ready to go off.

 _Or like Keith’s appendix ready to burst,_ some morbid part of Shiro’s brain provided the metaphor, because apparently he had officially crossed the line into the morbid part of his panic attacks. The part where he started making jokes about his own demise and became self-deprecating and became otherwise morose and gloom-and-doom.

Amrita glanced over her shoulder at Shiro. “Have you spoken with your parents, Takashi?”

Shiro nodded numbly. “Haha’s on her way here, she should be here any second now…”

Amrita nodded and got the attention of a passing nurse, wheeling a tray of equipment past. “Tell Stacey at the front that when Mrs. Shirogane comes in to direct her to exam room four.”

The nurse nodded.

Exam room four was fairly small, more like a basic doctor’s office. Keith was carefully transferred from the stretcher to the exam table. The other nurse—who introduced herself as Summer—started taking Keith’s vital signs and a blood sample while Amrita recorded information that Trigel and Blaytz provided. The paramedics soon said their good-byes and left, leaving Amrita and Summer to finish Keith’s intake.

“We’ve got a radiologist who will be here in fifteen to do a ultrasound,” Amrita explained as she adjusted something on Keith’s IV and Summer left the room to get something. “If she’s not here yet and if you want, we can delay the start time so that your mother can be here.”

“From there, how long until Keith goes into surgery?” Shiro asked.

“That depends,” Amrita said. “More importantly, it depends on what the ultrasound shows and if it confirms Trigel’s diagnosis. If it is the appendix, then the ultrasound will also show us whether it will need to be an open surgery or if it can be done laparoscopically.” She looked at Keith and explained, “If it’s open, you’ll have one incision on the lower right part of your abdomen. If it’s laparoscopic, you’ll have several small incisions across your abdomen from where the surgeon inserts tools and an endoscope.”

“What makes the decision?” Keith asked, voice croaky and scratchy.

“Whether or not the appendix has ruptured,” Amrita answered. “If it has, then open is the best bet to get out all of the infection.”

Summer reappeared at the door, knocking. “Mrs. Shirogane is here. Oh, and so is your son, Rita. Mrs. Shirogane says he’s with her.”

“Bring them on back,” Amrita said. Summer disappeared as Amrita looked at Keith, then Shiro. “But we do have an issue. Policy says we can only have two non-personnel in with a patient at a time.”

“I’ll step out,” Shiro said. He needed to get out, needed to get away from the sterile smell, away from the blipping monitors and dripping bags of fluids. He didn’t want to leave Keith’s side, but he was just this close to completely losing it and he wasn’t going to do that in front of Keith. “I’ll wait for our father and sister to arrive.”

He waited until his mother and Lance were in the room—both rushing over to embrace and kiss and generally fuss over Keith—to step out and go towards the waiting room.

This, he realized, was perhaps a mistake.

He stepped into the room and the scent of blood and vomit hit his nose. There was a baby crying though his father did his best to soothe him. A young woman was sobbing in the corner with an older man sitting beside her, looking afraid and in shock. A teenage boy was groaning and clutching a trash can to his chest, vomiting on occasion while his mother patted his back, biting her lip. All eyes had been on him as he opened the door, all hopeful to hear news or be called back to be seen.

But all were disappointed to see a shaky guy wearing a _Jurassic Park_ t-shirt and jeans that probably needed to be washed a week ago.

Shakily, Shiro made his way over to a seat near the door. He got out his phone out of habit, but just stared at the black screen, not even turning it on. There was a green flashing light at the top left corner, an indicator that he had texts. He didn’t turn on the phone to see what they said.

He did, however, practically jump out of his chair when his phone started playing _The Imperial March_ , and his brother’s face showed up on the screen. He quickly swiped to answer the call. “Moshi-Mo—”

“Takashi, what the quiznak is going on?” Shinji demanded. “I stop to get gas and I have this text from Mom, that Keith’s in the ER. What happened?”

“It’s his appendix. We think,” Shiro answered. “Mom and Lance are with him now, and they’re doing an ultrasound…”

Shinji swore. “I’m about an hour away. Which hospital?”

“Memorial,” Shiro said. “Drive safe, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Of course not,” Shinji said a bit snappishly. “Not going to help if I land myself in a hospital, too.”

Shinji hung up, leaving Shiro once again alone with a black cellphone screen.

He quickly responded to the texts—his friends asking for updates on Keith—but that was done far too soon and without any sign of his father or Mitsu having arrived.

And then Shiro made the largest mistake of the day.

He sighed and opened up a web browser, typing in WebMD’s address.

He skim-read over the explanation of the causes, cursed himself for overlooking many of the listed symptoms, and…

Shiro clamped a hand to his mouth, bile rising to the back of his throat.

**Do not eat, drink, or use any pain remedies, antacids, laxatives, or heating pads, which can cause an inflamed appendix to rupture.**

Shiro had been forcing Keith to take the Tums, an antacid medicine, as well as water and Gatorade. The night before, Keith had wanted nothing to do with the medicine after having taken some throughout the day to no effect. Shiro had all but forced him to take them, insisting that he’d feel better.

Instead, Shiro had essentially poisoned Keith.

Keith was in pain, was severely ill, was facing emergency surgery, and could potentially die and it was all Shiro’s fault.

“-shi? Takashi?”

Shiro jerked his head up to see his father standing there, Mitsu beside him. Shiro leapt to his feet, sticking his phone in his pocket.

“Mom’s back there with Keith,” He said. “I haven’t heard anything yet. They were going to do an ultrasound to confirm the EMT’s diagnosis.”

Shiro jumped slightly at hearing the squeak of the door opening, Lance stepping out and giving an apologetic smile to the people in the waiting room. He came over towards the Shiroganes.

“Hey,” Lance said, addressing Shiro’s father. “Great timing. They just finished the ultrasound, and Mrs. Shirogane sent me out here to see if you were here to be with her and Keith when they talked with the doctors.”

Shiro’s father nodded and thanked Lance, getting directions to Keith’s exam room and was buzzed back.

Shiro collapsed back into his chair, Mitsu sitting on one side and Lance on the other.

“Is he in a lot of pain?” Mitsu asked quietly.

Lance frowned. “Only when people have been pressing on his stomach. He really didn’t like when the tech told him that she was going to use the wand-thingy to press down.”

Shiro had an unbidden replay of Keith’s pained scream when Trigel released pressure on his stomach only an… Had it only been an hour and a half before?

“Did they say if the appendix was ruptured or not?” Shiro asked.

“They didn’t say much in the exam room, but the tech and doctor stepped outside to exchange notes.” Lance explained.

They waited until Shiro’s father stepped back out, approaching the trio and said, “Alright. Keith’s appendix has ruptured, and he will have an open appendectomy. They’re moving him upstairs into pre-op, and he’ll be going into surgery in about two hours, to give time to prep an operating room and for the surgeon to finish up with his current patient.” He looked at Lance. “Keith asked me to ask you to go back there to him.”

Lance nodded and made a beeline for the door.

Shiro allowed his father to direct him and Mitsu out of the ER waiting room, towards the hospital proper, up to another waiting room, just feeling numb. He wasn’t sure how his friends ended up there shortly after, but was glad for their presence, even if Allura and Nyma had to discourage Slav from listing the statistics for recovery from appendicitis. He vaguely remembered passing over his apartment key to Mitsu, who was going with Hunk and Shay to get an overnight bag packed for Keith and to feed Captain Purr-Card. He acknowledged Shinji’s arrival, and knew that Shinji’s request to briefly see Keith was granted.

Shiro felt a hand on his shoulder. “ _How are you holding up, son?_ ”

Shiro looked up at his father, bewildered. “ _What does it matter how I’m doing? Keith is the one who is dying._ ”

His father frowned. “ _He is not dying. He is in a hospital, he has doctors and nurses taking care of him, and he is about to go into surgery to fix the problem. He is going to be fine._ ”

“ _But he’s so sick right now, and it’s all my fault. He could have died, could still possibly die, and it’d be my fault,_ ” Shiro argued.

“ _There is no way that this is your fault, Takashi._ ”

“ _I brushed off his pain. I made him take some medicine that made everything worse. I almost left him for hours to go to class. I made that decision. If I hadn’t come home when I did, he would be dead._ ”

His father’s frown became a scowl. “ _I will not let you blame yourself for this. Just as I didn’t let Keith blame himself for that._ ”

Shiro ignored his father’s pointed nod towards his right side. “ _I should have been there for him! If I had recognized what was happening faster, if I had just known better, then Chris—_ ”

Shiro cut himself off, realizing the name that tumbled out of his mouth was not the right one for the moment or situation.

He watched as recognition and realization crossed his father’s face, softening his expression. “ _Takashi, you’re having a panic attack right now. It’s causing you to have flashbacks. You need to breathe. One, two, three—_ ”

“No!” Shiro said loudly. No, he yelled, he knew he yelled as he got to his feet, shouting out that word in English before returning to Japanese. “ _Don’t tell me to breathe! I can’t do this now! I won’t do this now! It’s my fault—it’s all my fault—everything is my fault. Me and my decisions. I’m not having a panic attack, I’m suffering the consequences and apparently I’m dragging everyone I care for down with me!_ ”

The room was closing in on him, it was too hot, too many eyes were on him. He had to move, he had to get out.

And so he did.


	37. Pidge

Pidge watched Shiro leave, watched his father sigh and tiredly rub his face and mumble something.

She had no idea what they had just been talking about, or why Shiro was so upset.

But she had a feeling he shouldn’t be alone.

She went up and tapped Dr. Shirogane on the arm, and he looked surprised as he looked down at her.

“Would you like me to go after him?” She asked.

“Yes, please,” Dr. Shirogane said, his gaze lifting back towards the door. “But Takashi… He is not in a good place at this moment. Hospitals bring back too many bad memories for him. I’m worried about him. I don’t think he’ll let anyone close to him right now.” He studied Pidge for a moment. “But you… He might let you.”

Pidge swallowed. “I’ll at least try.”

Dr. Shirogane bowed his head towards her. “Thank you. And good luck.”

Pidge left the waiting room, asking passersby if they had happened to see a man of Shiro’s description. One nurse pointed her in the direction of the stairwell.

She pushed open the door, but saw Shiro before she could wonder if he went up or down. He was sitting at the bottom stair of the flight, his head leaning against the cool cement block of the wall.

Pidge closed the door quietly behind her, quietly descending the stairs to sit beside him. “Hey.”

Shiro didn’t respond.

Pidge licked her lips. “Keith’ll be okay. Matt had his appendix out when he was ten, you know? But his got infected in the middle of cold and flu season, so Mom and Dad misinterpreted the symptoms as the flu so they didn’t realize anything was really wrong at first until he got to the point that he couldn’t walk, let alone sit up. So, obviously, he’s fine now.”

Shiro still said nothing, but seemed to be trying to make himself seem small against the wall. Given Shiro’s height and broad shoulders, that strategy was not working out well for him.

She needed to talk about something different.

It hit her. Quidditch. Shiro could always talk about Quidditch!

“So, I didn’t get a chance to see the scores from last night’s game with the Olkari against Amblin. Do you know, by any chance, how the match went?” She asked.

There was still silence.

Pidge closed her eyes. “Do you want me to go? Because I’ll go if you want me to. Sorry.”

She made a move to get up, when Shiro said,

“Do you remember the first time we went to The Castle together? You asked me how I got into Quidditch. I didn’t answer you then, mostly because I didn’t know how to without making myself completely vulnerable to everything I’ve tried to push behind me.” He looked up at Pidge, eyes sad and pained, her heart breaking. “But I can’t push it back anymore. It keeps hunting me down. I’m already vulnerable. Past that. So. Can I give you an answer to that question?”

He trusted her enough to tell her. That was what he was saying, no matter what he would tell her. He needed to talk, and he trusted her enough to listen.

“Of course you can,” Pidge said, getting as comfortable as she possibly could on the cement step.

Shiro took a long, shaky breath, then began his story.

“I enlisted in the Army after I graduated from high school. Mostly because I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do after twelfth grade, but knowing that it wasn’t the right time for college yet. I did know one thing, and that was that I wanted to fly. I had always wanted to learn how to fly a plane, had always been obsessed with them. My parents used to joke that I was the one most enthusiastic about the move to America because it meant that I would be on a plane for several hours. I didn’t want to fly commercial jets or anything like that, though. I wanted to do something that would make a difference, and I thought that this would be it. 

“And… Maybe this sounds stupid, but a part of me felt like I had something to prove, to myself and to everyone else. That even though I was a naturalized citizen, I was just as American as every single guy on the football team and every single homecoming queen nominee. After basic training, I was accepted into a pilot training program, graduated that. I was almost immediately deployed overseas, to join a reconnaissance fleet.”

A memory flashed through Pidge’s mind.

 _“But after Shiro graduated, he… left. And I was bitter. And mean. And stupid. And a little selfish. I just wanted Shiro to come back. We got into this really stupid fight over it.”_ Keith had said. This must have been what they fought over, Keith must have been upset over the deployment. She decided not to interrupt to inquire further about that.

“Three months in to my deployment, I was sent on a squadron mission. Some of our guys were supposed to fly over an area and survey it, see if there were anti-aircraft weapons or other large weaponry. Then me and some of the other guys, we were the wingman, I was supposed to have my buddy Chris’ back, be the one to protect him. And I… I failed.

“The enemy fire started. We were all ordered to retreat. And I… I didn’t realize I had lost sight of Chris’ plane until I got turned around. He had been hit; it wasn’t a bad one. At least, not then. But I was supposed to cover him. I turned back around, trying to get back into position to protect him. And I failed.”

Shiro took a deep, shuddering breath, putting his head in his hands between his knees.

Pidge cautiously inched closer to him, not sure if she should offer physical or verbal comfort. She swallowed some as her new close proximity made her realize that Shiro was crying silently. “Hey, it’s okay,” She whispered, gently putting her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to tell me or anyone everything.”

He shook his head. “Not have to. Want to,” He mumbled.

“It’s okay,” She said again, gently pulling him into a hug. “Just take your time.”

She wished she could do something else. Get him some water or something, but she didn’t want to leave him and dragging him along behind her to find a vending machine wasn’t going to work either.

For now, all she could do for Shiro was to sit with him, be there for him, be patient with him, and listen when he was ready to talk.

It took a long time, but Shiro started speaking again. “The enemy fire got worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today with a longer flash-back chapter next time!


	38. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, bad news time!
> 
> Good news is, this is the last angsty chapter of the entire story!
> 
> Bad news? It's probably the angstiest chapter of the entire story.

He could have sworn he had seen Chris turn around when the order to retreat was given.

Now here he was, ignoring the order, ignoring his superior officers literally yelling in his ears to turn the plane around, trying to get to Chris.

Chris had already been hit, a small fire erupting along the wing.

Shiro laid down some cover fire, trying to buy Chris some time.

Heard Chris call out, voice clearer than their superiors in his headset, “Shiro, watch—!”

Shiro couldn’t even heed the half warning as his own plane was struck.

But not before he watched Chris’s plane dissolve into flames.

The entire time he was falling, there was sound.

Warning alarms, explosions, his headpiece ringing with voices and orders.

But he heard none of them because none were louder than the voice in his own head.

_Chris is dead. I failed. I killed Chris._

When unconsciousness came upon impact, he was already too numb to register it.

*****

Consciousness came back simultaneously too fast and too slow.

His eyes were open slightly. He could see light. He was too sleepy to open his eyes any further, too drained physically and emotionally. He was too hot, there was something sticky covering his face. The smell of something burnt was all around him. A brief thought went through his head, wondering if he was the thing that was burnt. His head hurt. He wasn’t sure if he couldn’t move or if he just didn’t have the energy to. 

He groaned as he shut his eyes again, the pain finally registering. His right arm hurt the worst, and he wondered if that was where the burnt smell was coming from.

He opened his eyes again briefly, the light dimmed by the thick scarlet blood that was clinging to his eyelashes.

For the first time, he realized that it hurt to breathe, that he was gasping from where he was hunched over the controls.

There were more voices, different from the ones that had been in his ear.

Fingers pressed to the side of his neck followed by, “He’s got a pulse!”

More hands on him, feeling his spine and neck, his eyelid pried open through the blood to have a light shined in his eye. A woman’s voice. “Lieutenant Shirogane, can you hear me? Lieutenant? Shirogane? Shiro? Takashi?”

He couldn’t get his mouth to work, couldn’t get the words to come out. All he could do was stay still and listen as the medics talked and worked on him.

“Dammit, his arm’s pinned,” Another man’s voice said. “Johnson, get the—”

“We don’t have time for that!” Another woman said. “He’s losing too much blood! Get a local in him now. We’re going to have to amputate.”

_No,_ he thought numbly, the word repeating and gaining in volume inside his own head but not being vocalized. _No no no no no no no no no no!_

He couldn’t scream, couldn’t speak.

But pure adrenaline made him move, jolting as the needle punctured the skin of his upper right arm.

He was finally able to scream, howling in pain as the movement made the pain in his arm worse, his chest screaming in protest.

Then he actually caught sight of his own mangled arm, bone poking out and blood everywhere, crushed between a part of the plane that had caved in, pinching his arm between the metal.

The adrenaline gave out as he threw up and passed out again.

*****

He was told that he was airlifted to an Army hospital in Germany less than twenty-four hours later.

He was told that he regained consciousness briefly while in Germany and had tried to communicate with a nurse.

He was told that he had briefly squeezed his mother’s fingers when he was finally settled into a room at the base hospital in the states.

He had no memory of any of this.

All he remembered was waking up, staring up at the white ceiling tiles, listening to the sound of his own heart monitor, IV drip-drip-dripping and the ventilation machine pumping air into his lungs through the tube down his throat.

He remembered not wondering where he was. Where his family was.

He just remembered thinking: _Chris is dead and I’m not and it’s all my fault._

He got the report of the full extent of his injuries later.

A concussion with cuts on his head, some of the already military-short hair shaved away for the doctors to stitch up the area of impact.

His nose had been broken, part of the glass of the windshield having cut his face from one cheekbone, across the bridge of his nose, to the other cheekbone.

A broken leg.

Five broken ribs and a collapsed lung.

Ruptured and removed spleen.

And an above-the-elbow field amputation of his right arm.

The paperwork had already been filed for his honorable discharge from the US Army.

He would never fly again.

It was what he deserved, after all.

*****

People treated him like he was made of glass. He hated it.

He hated everything.

He hated being stuck in that bed, but hated leaving the room even more. He hated every piece of technology that was attached to him, every needle, every tube. He hated being poked and prodded. He hated the therapist who came three times a week to try to get him to talk. He hated the sheets, the wallpaper, that stupid water-stain on the ceiling tile that looked like a hedgehog. He hated how he was so reliant on other people for things like bathing and eating. He hated how his hair was growing back in white. Hated the scars, hated the phantom limb pain, hated the itchy cast. He hated physical therapy, and he especially hated being fit for a prosthetic arm.

He hated how patient people were with him, no matter how bitter or angry or petty he was acting.

Until one Doctor Colleen Gunderson had enough, and everyone else decided to follow suit. Beginning, surprisingly, with his mother.

“ _I think half of your problem is you’re bored. So I brought you something,_ ” His mother said from her usual chair, bringing with her a bag slightly bigger than usual.

What she pulled out surprised him. A portable CD player, a set of headphones, and the first _Harry Potter_ book on audio CD from the library.

“ _TV can be boring, and I know books are hard right now,_ ” Okaa-San had said as she put the first disc into the player. “ _I thought you might like this option, though. Keep your mind busy. I remembered how much you liked these books._ ”

Shiro hadn’t read _Harry Potter_ in years. He definitely hadn’t reread the series in one swoop.

So hearing the words _“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number Four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much”_ brought him a place of familiarity and comfort as he began this journey all over again.

And as Harry rode a broomstick for the first time, played Quidditch for the first time, he remembered that this was half the reason he wanted to fly to begin with. He wanted to do something to get that same feeling of elation, of weightlessness, of moving fast through the air.

To say that Shiro mellowed out considerably was an understatement.

By the end of the first book, Shiro’s temperament was back to what it had been before the crash, before deployment, before the big fight he had with Keith, before everything.

He talked with the therapist, who utilized the books to compare Shiro’s actions and feelings to Harry’s in _Order of the Phoenix_ , comparing the two in relation to PTSD, depression and survivor’s guilt. She assured him that the anger he felt was valid, and part of the healing process, just as much as talking with her or the medicines he was given for his injuries.

Shiro and Keith ended up having a long heart-to-heart, full of apologizing and fully discussing feelings over the fight they had before Shiro was deployed. That Keith was less angry over the lack of control, but that he was frustrated because he felt that he still needed Shiro as a support system and that he wasn’t there, and that eventually he’d lose everyone that mattered to him all over again. Pressure to apply to colleges, the looming anniversary of his mother’s death, and not a week having passed from one of his birth father’s infamous visits hadn’t helped either. Shiro promised that he would never abandon Keith, and admitted that, yes, he had perhaps jumped right into the military without even discussing it with the people _he_ cared about, not considering their thoughts on the matter. That his actions and decisions would impact others beyond just himself.

Things got much better after that. His physical and mental health, his interpersonal relationships with his family and the staff at the hospital.

Shiro was finally allowed to go home a week after Keith graduated from high school (to no one’s surprise, he had vehemently protested walking at the ceremony but consented to being dressed up in Shiro’s graduation regalia for photos).

A few days after being home, Shiro found the stack of thick, unopened envelopes bearing the images of many different university mascots and seals, all with Keith’s name on them, hidden in the closet in the room they shared with Shinji.

“You know, they don’t waste envelopes this big or this much paper if you don’t get accepted,” Shiro said, holding up one particular envelope that read CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’RE IN! on it in scarlet letters.

Keith simply shrugged and didn’t look up from where he was drawing at his desk.

“He didn’t get in to the art school he wanted, the one with the video game design program,” Shinji informed Shiro quietly. “Mom, Dad and the guidance counselor talked him into applying to all these non-art-focused schools in case he didn’t get in.”

Shiro felt bad, because he hadn’t even known that Keith had applied to art school. Even worse when he found out that Keith had learned of the decision a week after Shiro arrived back in the US. Then he felt angry, because Keith’s art was just as good as his math and science grades.

But he knew that Keith was taking this rejection hard, and that he might not make a decision to go to college at all. Keith too often took a ‘all or nothing’ approach.

And since higher education was already something Shiro was considering with his therapist and parents, something that the GI Bill made very tantalizing…

Shiro gathered the stack of envelopes and dumped them on Keith’s bed, starting to sort them alphabetically. “Whichever one you pick, I’ll apply to attend too.”

And that was how the three brothers stayed up until three in the morning, Shinji bringing up every school’s website while Shiro and Keith opened each envelope and skimmed the welcome packet.

There were some that Keith immediately nixed, namely Galra Tech for several reasons—the most predominate being that Lotor had already been making it loud and clear that he had been accepted and would be attending in the fall—but Shinji’s website search of one particular school solidified the decision Keith was already leaning towards.

“Keith, you’ve got to see this,” Shinji said, grinning. Keith and Shiro both walked over to look over Shinji’s shoulder, Keith’s eyes getting wide at the article that was on the screen.

“Theo Goldstein just became an associate professor at Altea University!” He exclaimed.

The fact that his favorite video game designer was now teaching at Altea’s very small, practically brand-new program was enough for Keith to commit to Altea, immediately grabbing a pen to fill out the paperwork.

Shiro picked up the welcome brochure. “Alright. Altea University for Math and Science it is, then.”

Keith deferred his entrance for a semester, allowing for Shiro to have enough time to apply to begin in the spring. Shiro was more surprised than anything else when he also received an acceptance envelope right before Christmas. His own high school grades were decent enough, but he had no idea what to pursue at Altea. He told his advisor as much, and was reassured to know that that wasn’t unusual among first semester students.

Still, Shiro struggled to figure out his exact place in the world. He was still suffering from long-term injuries and other chronic problems like his PTSD. Then, one evening, early into his first semester at Altea, walking towards his car, it hit him.

No, it literally hit him upside the head.

Shiro struggled to remain upright, more surprised than injured by the ball hitting him in the side of the head, his ears ringing slightly.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry!”

Shiro looked up to see an Asian man with a lean build run over, a broom in his hand for some reason.

“You alright?” He asked.

“I think so?” Shiro said, rubbing his head slightly, brow furrowed at the field behind the man, where several other people holding broomsticks were gathered around some odd hoops that resembled...

Shiro frowned, remembering a description.

_They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through._

“Sorry, again,” The man said. “I’m Akira. Chemistry Ph.D. student. Well, hopefully not for much longer. Because hopefully I’m graduating, not because I’m going to blow myself up in the chem lab like Romelle thinks.”

“Takashi Shirogane,” Shiro said. “Just started undergrad. Um, what is all that over there?”

“Oh, that?” Akira said, picking up the ball that had struck Shiro. “That’s our Quidditch pitch.”

Shiro blinked. “Quidditch pitch?”

“Yeah, like from _Harry Potter_?” Akira said. He grinned. “We’ve got an extra broom, and if you’ve got time… You wanna get an introduction to the sport?”

Those were, perhaps, the best words Shiro had heard in a very long time.

Like his first days in physical therapy, he was clumsy and awkward, especially with using the prosthetic arm that was hidden under layers of shirts and his gloves. Akira and the rest of the team—mostly upperclassmen—told him that wasn’t unusual for a newbie, and practice would only make it better. Everyone on the team was super nice, giving him tips and advice and encouragement. Hunk—a freshman on the team along with his roommate—even gave him a spare water bottle he had brought along during their break time.

And, at first, it did feel really silly to run with a broomstick between his legs, made it much more awkward. But as soon as he started to get the hang of it, the moment he was running at full speed…

It was almost like flying.

He officially joined the team the following week, and drug Keith along the week after that. Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he truly felt like he belonged somewhere, the way he felt when he was on the Quidditch pitch with his new teammates, laughing on the sidelines and the thrill of victory

Quidditch, he realized, played a large role in his healing process.

Quidditch was something he couldn’t afford to lose.

And yet, he was now facing losing it anyway.


	39. Pidge

Pidge sat quietly, unsure of what to say, Shiro still leaning against her. Her heart ached from Shiro’s story, of how much pain and struggle he had gone through.

And yet, all she could muster out was, “We won’t lose Quidditch. We just won’t. We’ll find a way. I promise.”

Shiro didn’t respond, so Pidge pushed him upright, putting her hands on his shoulders, narrowing her eyes slightly at him.

“I mean it. We’re going to do it. And Keith’s going to be alright, too. Everything is going to be fine. And even if Dean Iverson pulls the plug on our team, we’ll figure something out. We’re smart. We got into Altea to begin with, didn’t we? We’ve gotten this far. Nothing is going to stop us.”

She brought her hands down from his shoulders to grasp both of his hands in hers. “I promise. You’re not doing this alone. We’re a team. More than that. We’re family. Family means we help each other and support each other. You haven’t failed—not this team, not anyone else. Failure is only when you give up the fight. And are you ready to give up the fight?”

Slowly, Shiro smiled. “No. I’m not. And after a pep talk like that, I think I could take on the world.”

Pidge smiled back at him. “Then I did something right.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said. “For listening.”

“Thank you,” Pidge said. “For trusting me to listen.”

Shiro looked down at their joined hands for a moment, then back up at her. “Pidge, can I—?”

Whatever he was going to ask was cut off by Smash Mouth’s “All Star”—the ringtone that indicated Matt was the one calling Pidge’s phone.

She let go of Shiro’s hands to pull her phone out of her pocket, accepting the call. “Matt, everything okay?”

“Just trying to figure out where you went, mostly,” Matt said. “And, any chance you know where Shiro is?”

“Yeah, he’s right beside me, we’re not too far away,” Pidge answered.

“Can you bring him back here?” Matt said. “The surgeon just came out and asked to speak with his parents, so I’m hoping that means Keith’s out of surgery and we’ll get some news.”

“We’ll be back there in a few minutes,” Pidge told him, then hung up, looking up at Shiro. “You heard?”

“Keith might be out of surgery,” Shiro responded. He stood up and offered his hand for Pidge to help her to her feet, which she accepted. They went back up the stairs, and as she pulled open the door, Pidge paused.

“What were you about to say?” She asked. “When the phone rang?”

Shiro didn’t quite meet her eyes as he said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important. I’ll tell you later.”

They went back to the waiting room, arriving just as Dr. Shirogane was reentering the room, looking tired but smiling.

“Keith is out of surgery, everything went fine,” Dr. Shirogane told the room. “He’s in recovery at the moment, and should be in a room in about an hour or so, after he’s woken up a bit.”

“How long will he have to stay in the hospital?” Hunk asked.

“Five days to a week,” Dr. Shirogane answered. “The doctor said they usually keep patients whose appendixes have ruptured a little longer, to keep them on antibiotics and fluids.”

“Can we see him?” Shinji asked.

“Yes, your mother’s with him now,” Dr. Shirogane said. “But the doctors have requested family only while he’s in the recovery room.”

Mitsu immediately jumped out of her chair to her feet, but her father shook his head.

“And, even if accompanied with a parent, no one under the age of eighteen,” He told her.

Mitsu pouted at that and sat back in her chair with a huff, folding her arms over her chest.

“We promise to record him if he says anything stupid on account of the anesthesia,” Shinji assured her. Mitsu’s pout turned into a scowl.

Seeing his daughter unappeased, Dr. Shirogane said, “Mitsu, how about you and the others go find dinner? Since Keith will be in a room soon on another floor, there is no need to stay here. And you know what Takashi, Shinji, your mother and I like to eat, to bring some dinner back for us.”

Mitsu nodded, though still didn’t look entirely satisfied. Her father gave her his credit card, then a kiss on the top of the head, and he and his sons went back to the recovery room.

“Since I doubt Keith would be up for too many visitors after he gets settled in a room, I think I shall head back to The Castle,” Allura said as they walked to the elevator.

“Slav and I will go with you,” Nyma said. To the others, she explained, “We left Professor Arus and Coran in charge when we left.”

“Which, frankly, was a calculated risk to take,” Allura said. “Slav can tell you what we are most likely to encounter upon our return.”

“Ninety-eight point seventy six percent chance of at least three broken dishes, a seventy-four point eighty-two percent chance of many dishes to be washed, and a sixty-three point twenty-six percent chance of having to be careful as to not slip on spilled coffee.” Slav dutifully reported.

“Yeah, you better go then,” Matt said.

Rolo, as the one who drove the three baristas there, also left with them. On the way to the cafeteria, Lance gestured to the sign pointing towards the ER.

“My mom’s still on her shift, but I’m going to see if she’s not busy to let her know how Keith’s doing,” He said.

“Do you want us to wait?” Shay asked.

“Nah, go on ahead, I’ll catch up,” Lance said.

When they were almost to the cafeteria, Mitsu suddenly said, “Pidge, will you go with me to the bathroom?”

The way she said it, Pidge could tell that she didn’t actually need to use the restroom. But she said, “Sure” and followed the raven-haired teen inside.

Mitsu leaned against the wall near the paper towel dispenser. “What happened with Takashi? He disappeared, and Matt said he was with you, and he looked like he had been crying when you came back.”

“He was in the stairwell when I found him,” Pidge explained. “Your dad said that the hospital was bringing back bad memories for him?”

Mitsu nodded. “Yeah, it does. And, according to Dad, Takashi is blaming himself for Keith being sick, so that’s not helping at all.”

“Right, the survivors guilt,” Pidge said, nodding slightly. “Yeah, Shiro told me about that too.”

Mitsu’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean he told you about that?”

Pidge frowned, suddenly unsure. “I mean, he told me. About how he lost his arm. About the battle he was in, and getting shot down, and that he was trying to save his friend, Chris, and that’s how it lead to Quidditch…”

Mitsu stared at Pidge for a long moment, skepticism merging into disbelief. “He told you?”

“Yes?” Pidge said hesitantly.

Mitsu stared down at the toes of her shoes. “Whoa. Okay. Um. Wow.”

“What’s wrong?” Pidge asked.

“Nothing,” Mitsu said, looking up. “Well, no, it’s not nothing. This is huge. Really, super, ginormous huge. Takashi has never ever talked about that day with anyone except maybe his therapist and even then I don’t think he’s told her that much. We only know what happened because of a short explanation his Commanding Officer gave us, plus what one of the other guys in his unit told us. Pidge,” Mitsu’s smile was wide and her eyes were a little teary. “Pidge, this is… This is huge. Takashi trusts you so much, to tell you that story. 

“After what happened… My parents, me, Shinji, Keith… We were all so worried about him. The doctors warned us that his head injury could change so much: his personality, his physical abilities, his emotions… And then there was the changes brought on by the loss of his arm and the PTSD. But I think what scared us all the most was how he was blocking us all out. This time last year, it was such an improvement that he was regularly having conversations with people outside of the family. I would have never have thought that just a year later he would confide something that big like this with someone he hasn’t known for very long. You’re incredibly special, Pidge. A special person in general, but especially to Takashi.”

Pidge floundered like a fish, mouth opening and closing, unsure of what to say, then she got out, “We’re just… We’re just really good friends…”

“I know,” Mitsu said, standing up from leaning against the wall. “But I think you’re the other half of my brother’s heart. That he’s the other half of yours. That you both know it but won’t do anything about it. Yet.”

Pidge smiled, somewhat sadly. “You’re determined, aren’t you? To get me and Shiro together?”

“What can I say? I’m a Slytherin. I’m ambitious,” Mitsu said with a shrug. “I’m also hungry, so let’s go get some food.”

“We should, before we have a search party sent after us,” Pidge agreed, Mitsu’s words still echoing in her head and her heart.

Did she and Shiro stand a chance of getting together after all? Or was it all just the wishful, hopeful thinking of two young girls?

For that matter, what was it that Shiro wanted to tell her earlier?

They got their food then joined Shay, Hunk, Lance and Matt at a table, where they were already eating.

“We were starting to get worried about you,” Matt said as Pidge sat down beside him.

“Had to go find a different bathroom, the nearest one was out of order,” Mitsu lied easily as she opened her bag of potato chips. She crunched on a chip, then her brow furrowed. “Um, question. Shay, are you able to play Quidditch again?”

“In theory, yes, but I haven’t been officially cleared for more than very short distances of running yet, and that’s only to help build up stamina and strength. I see the doctor next week to talk about it.” Shay said. “Why?”

“Then, if Keith can’t play tomorrow against Galra Tech, and you couldn’t play the whole game, what are you guys going to do?” Mitsu asked.

The bite of sandwich in Pidge’s mouth suddenly tasted like sand as she looked at her teammates, whose eyes went wide and frantic glances were exchanged.

The game against Galra Tech—the last game of the season—was tomorrow.

The game that would determine who went to regionals, and decide the fate of the Altea University Quidditch team.

And they were short a player.

What were they going to do?


	40. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Summer Solstice!

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. 

First, Shiro discovered that coming-out-of-anesthesia-Keith was about the same as drunk-Keith, in that he was basically on the world’s fastest emotional roller-coaster. While in the recovery room, Keith started crying hysterically and insistent that the surgeon removed his feet. Okaa-San and Otou-San did their best to console him while Shiro moved the blankets at Keith’s feet to prove that, yes, Keith did still in fact have his feet. Once assured, Keith started laughing and kicking his feet like a small child, wholeheartedly delighted to learn that he still had feet. Shiro and his parents as well as the recovery room nurse tried desperately to make him stop, worried about his incision and stitches, only for Keith to ignore them all.

Shinji just recorded the entire thing on his phone and silently sniggered.

Once Keith was settled into a room, Shiro, Shinji and their parents ate the sandwiches they were brought while Mitsu and Lance were Keith’s new captive audience. Keith told them some harrowing tale about how he and a red robotic lion had to fight an evil emperor so he could get his feet back.

“Sounds exciting, babe,” Lance told Keith, clearly trying to keep a straight face.

Keith turned to him, head tilted, eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly. Then, “You were there, Lance! You had the blue lion! Then the red lion!”

“So we piloted the red lion at the same time?”

“No, that’d be stupid,” Keith insisted, his words slurred, his s’s in an almost hiss. “I was piloting the black lion when you piloted the red lion.”

“Where’d the black lion come from?” Mitsu asked, brow furrowed as she tried to keep up with Keith’s hodge-podge narrative.

“I dunno. I think Shiro had it. ‘Cause he was there, then he wasn’t, then I had the black lion ‘cause he disappeared.” Keith said. He looked across the room at Shiro and pouted slightly. “Why’d you do that, Shiro? We just defeated the emperor, and you just disappeared…”

“Well, I think it has something to do with those peppermints Slav’s always arranging at The Castle,” Shiro told him. “He warned me that I might disappear in another reality if he didn’t get them right.”

Keith frowned and nodded seriously. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s what happened…”

He then proceeded to fall asleep, leaving his family and boyfriend to question what kind of drugs he had been given.

Shiro had vague recollections of parting with his parents—his father and Lance staying at the hospital with Keith, while his mother took Mitsu home—and he and Shinji went back to the apartment, where they both proceeded to sleep for nearly twelve hours.

The next morning, the alarm Shiro didn’t remember setting went off (which he both hated and appreciated last-night’s Shiro for doing) and he and Shinji got dressed.

It was as Shiro was pulling on his “Straight Outta Hogwarts” t-shirt over his head when he suddenly felt his heart, stomach and several other significant organs drop.

The Galra Tech match was today, set to start in only a few hours.

Whether he liked it or not, today would change everything for better or for worse.

By nine A. M., Shiro and Shinji were at the hospital right as visiting hours began, bags of McDonald’s in their hands. The brothers found that their mother and Mitsu had already beaten them there. Keith was somewhat awake, eyes half-lidded, Lance sitting on the bed beside him. Keith’s head was on Lance’s shoulder, their hands clasped together. Keith woke up a little bit more when Shiro pulled over the dining tray and placed a strawberry milkshake on it.

“Milkshakes are a liquid?” He asked groggily, lifting his head slightly.

“Technically, they fall under the ‘soft’ part of the ‘soft and liquid diet’. I double-checked with the nurse, she said it would be fine, just take it slow,” Otou-San said as he accepted a hashbrown from Shinji.

“Thanks for bringing breakfast,” Lance said as he unwrapped a McMuffin.

“No problem,” Shinji said, biting into a biscuit. “How are you feeling, Keith?”

“Stomach hurts a little, mostly when I move,” Keith mumbled. “Not as bad now. Sleepy.”

“Rest, baby, just rest,” Okaa-San crooned as she ran her hand through Keith’s hair.

Shiro’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text from Allura, then up at Keith. “Allura wants to know if you’re up for visitors, Keith. She and the rest of the team wanted to come by.”

Keith nodded vaguely, straw in his mouth, sipping his milkshake.

An hour later, the entire Quidditch team plus Rolo, Nyma and Slav was gathered in Keith’s room. All were trying to be conscientious effort to not overwhelm Keith, but he seemed to appreciate the visitors.

Shay broached the topic first, clearing her throat slightly. “Unfortunately, we have a bit of team business we need to discuss. We only have,” She looked at the clock on the wall and winced. “Less time than I thought. We have only two and a half hours until the coin toss. And are back to the same problem we had at the beginning of the semester: we’re down a player and about to play Galra Tech.”

“I can play,” Keith said suddenly, making everyone turn to stare at him in confusion and disbelief. Sure enough, Keith had a look of determination on his face that Shiro was well acquainted with. It usually involved him, his parents, Shinji or Lance telling him not to do the thing that he was planning on doing.

Lance stepped up to the plate to be the one to tell Keith not to do the thing. “Keith, babe, sweetheart, _cariño_. Do you remember fifteen minutes ago? When Shiro and I had to help you to the bathroom? Because you couldn’t even stand upright without doubling over in pain? From the incision where you had an open appendectomy not twenty-four hours ago?”

Keith put his hand on Lance’s shoulder, staring at his boyfriend with as much seriousness as his sleepy, glassy eyes could muster. “No, no, I can play, Lance. Really. Watch”

Keith took a deep breath, then tried to sit up. Pain flashed across his face as he winced, grimacing, then he laid back down against the hospital bed.

“Keith?” Hunk said slowly. “You okay, buddy?”

“I’m…” Keith said, voice cracking slightly as he sank further against the mattress. “I’m just gonna… save my energy. For the match.”

“Good idea,” Lance said, gently petting Keith on the head.

“Can you reschedule the match?” Nyma asked.

“You really think Zarkon’s going to let us do that?” Matt asked. “They’ll force us to forfeit!”

“He’s right,” Shiro said, frowning as he tapped his fingers against his arm. “There’s no way Galra Tech is going to let us reschedule. They’ll say it’s our own fault for not having enough players.”

“Besides, Keith’s not going to be in any shape to play any time soon even if we could reschedule,” Pidge added. “And if Shay’s doctor doesn’t clear her…”

“I can play,” Keith weakly insisted again.

“No, you can’t,” Was the chorused response.

“There is no reality in which that is advisable, Keith,” Slav told him.

“Rolo? Nyma?” Hunk asked, looking at the two hopefully.

“I’m Snitching today,” Rolo said, shaking his head.

“I thought Galra Tech was getting a neutral Snitch,” Matt said, brow furrowed.

“They were, until she had to go home because her sister’s having a baby,” Rolo explained. “I got the text last night. Only other readily available Snitch replacement is Thace, but he’s already agreed to ref today and finding another ref on such short notice is even more trouble than finding a Snitch.”

“And if Nyma plays, we run the risk of Galra Tech kicking up a fuss because then we wouldn’t be adhering to the Nine and Three Quarters rule,” Allura pointed out.

Shay looked over at Shiro. “Can I speak with you in the hall for a moment?”

“Sure?” Shiro said hesitantly as he vacated his chair. He followed Shay out of the room and towards the visitors area. 

Shay took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I thought about it all night. And I do have one viable solution.”

“Alright,” Shiro said. “So why did you bring me out here to tell me?”

“Because you’re not going to like it.”

“As long as it’s not forfeiting, I can’t think of a reason to not like whatever idea you have.”

“You’re _really_ not going to like it.”

“Shay, just tell me already.”

She did so, explaining her justifications and how to make it work. Unfortunately, they were rational and reasonable. He really couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

But he still grimaced. “You were right, I hate it.”

“But it’s not forfeiting,” Shay reminded him.

She had him there.

Shiro closed his eyes and counted to ten. He reopened his eyes, jaw set. “Okay. We’ll try it.”

Shay nodded and they returned to the room, where everyone was waiting apprehensively.

Taking a deep breath— _One two three in, one two three out_ —Shiro stepped up to the person he needed to speak with.

“I need the biggest favor I will ever ask of you,” Shiro explained. “I just need you to be a Chaser for the day. You don’t have to even touch the Quaffle, just dodge Bludgers and cause confusion and be enough of a distraction for the Galra team so that Pidge and Allura have a chance to score. Just for today. Please.”

Slav bit his lower lip and thought, no doubt calculating the number of realities he could be seriously injured in.

But then, he nodded.

The Altea University Quidditch Team had—by the skin of their teeth—enough players for their match.


	41. Pidge

Pidge shifted slightly, adjusting the grip on her broom. Beside her, wearing a Beater’s black headband instead of his usual Chaser’s white, Matt did the same.

Actually, the action was being done on either side of Pidge by her teammates under the stares of the Galra Tech team.

Was it a good thing that they looked more confused than looking like they felt that they had an easy win ahead of them?

“Where’s Keith?” Lotor asked, breaking the quiet before them at the coin toss.

“Long story short, recovering from an emergency appendectomy,” Allura answered.

“I thought he wasn’t a player,” Haxus said, pointing at Slav, who was trembling and shivering slightly in the heat, wearing a white headband and a spare jersey that they had quickly put a number on the back using masking tape, broomstick clutched in front of him with both hands. “You said that at the first match of the season, Shirogane.”

“Well, he signed up but it wasn’t, uh, finalized at the time.” Shiro explained.

“Shiro,” Slav mumbled beside the captain. “They do not appear as large from a distance…”

Pidge watched Shiro close his eyes and take a deep breath.

Lance slapped a hand on Slav’s back, forcing bravado that no one seemed to be feeling at the moment as he said, “Don’t worry, Slav, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“How do you figure that, McClain-Sanchez?” Haggar asked, her eyes narrowed.

Lance smirked at her. “Slav here is our secret weapon. He’s the only one of us _you_ haven’t seen play.”

As soon as he said that, it clicked in Pidge’s head why the Galra team was so confused and now starting to look a bit anxious. They had been scouting the Altean team for months now, had played against most of these players before.

They had devised a strategy around each and every member of the team. That strategy did not involve a last minute substitution of Matt into the role of Beater and someone completely new as a Chaser.

Altea, on the other hand, did not have the same disadvantage.

Kolivan, who was the head referee of the match, cleared his throat. “Captains, are you ready for the coin toss?”

Shiro and Zarkon nodded, stepping forward. Kolivan explained that since the teams were even in the rankings, Galra Tech would have the call as the away team, then he flipped a coin in the air.

“Tails,” Zarkon said.

The coin landed tails up, and Zarkon chose his half of the pitch to attack.

Each team retreated to their own bench for a last minute pep talk and strategy session. Shay, Nyma, Mitsu and Shinji were waiting at the Altea bench. Mitsu had her phone in her hand, speakerphone on, speaking in Japanese with her parents on the other end. Dr. and Mrs. Shirogane were staying at the hospital with Keith, but all three wanted to know what was happening with the game so Mitsu and Shinji were going to relay the match over the phone.

Everyone looked at Shiro. He took a deep breath and looked at them all.

“Alright, team,” He said. “We can do this. We’ve worked hard all season to get here; we’ve had our setbacks and our challenges. But we’ve persevered. We got here when everyone else was ready to give up on us. Look behind you at the stands. That’s proof enough that we’ve earned where we are, that we put in blood, sweat and tears to get here. We’ve never had this many people come out to support us before. We’ve never had this many people believe in us before. So we have to believe in ourselves. We have worked too hard to give up here, to not give it our all. We can’t give up. We _won’t_ give up. No matter what happens today, we gave it our all, we gave one-hundred and ten percent. As long as we work together, anything is possible.”

He stuck his hand out, palm down. “Lions on three?”

Pidge immediately put her hand on top of Shiro’s, looking up to meet his eyes, getting a small smile out of him as other hands piled on top of theirs. The strength of their team, the strength of their bond, the strength of their friendship weighed down on them.

Pidge could see it in Shiro’s eyes, the thing he didn’t want to say but already knew.

Even if they lost the match, even if they did lose the team, even if they did lose Quidditch at Altea University for Math and Science for good, it didn’t matter.

They had what truly mattered the most: friendship.

“One, two, three…”

“LIONS!” The team roared like the mighty beast that was their mascot.

It was Quidditch time.

As Pidge and the other Chasers made their way to the center of the field, she glanced at the crowd in the stands. Like Shiro had said in his pep talk, there were more people there today than there was at their first match. There was a fairly even amount of Galra Tech purple and Altea University blue. Pidge saw many familiar faces from previous matches: her parents, Lance’s family, Shay’s older brother Rax, Professor Arus and Coran, many of her classmates. Even Dean Iverson was there.

But what surprised her was that there were other Quidditch players watching in the stands. She recognized the girls from Fala College, smiling when Zethrid stood up, cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled “Crush ‘em, Lions!”. There was Ryner and her husband and kids, sitting with her teammates, and she recognized Plaxum, Al and Luxia. The rest of the Marmora team had apparently traveled with Kolivan and Thace, both in referee capacity.

All were interested to see who would advance to Regionals, to see who would represent the state, Galra or Altea.

Allura stood in the middle, across from Lotor, the two Chasers glaring each other down, waiting for a chance to grab the Quaffle.

“Brooms up!” Kolivan called out as he put the whistle to his lips. Once he saw that all players—with the exception of the two Seekers—were on their brooms, he raised his hand with the Quaffle and…

_TWEET!_

Everything was alive, the air practically crackling with the excitement and tension.

Allura and Lotor were instantly leaping for the Quaffle in the air as Hunk, Matt, Haggar and Prorok ran for the Bludgers.

Haggar snatched one up and her eyes seemed to gleam as she found her first target.

To his credit, Slav did exactly what Shiro told him to do: he ran all over the field in no discernable pattern or strategy. He was fast and everywhere, dodging Bludgers with ease to the mounting frustration of Haggar and Prorok.

Pidge thought she should suggest that, next season, Slav sign up as a Snitch. 

Then she saw his face and his wide-eyed terror and thought maybe she should keep that idea to herself.

The Galra Beaters focused on obtaining Bludgers and trying to land at least one hit on Slav. Then…

_TWEET!_

The Altea supporters cheered as Pidge and Allura high-fived, celebrating Allura’s goal, Altea’s third of the match to Galra’s one.

“Focus on Holt and Arus!” Zarkon yelled from the sidelines.

“Slav, initiate Strategy Number Three Hundred Fourteen!” Shiro yelled from Altea’s hoops.

“I do not like Strategy Number Three Hundred Fourteen…” Slav grumbled as he went back to the center of the field with Pidge and Allura.

Allura got the Quaffle, running down the field in the center, Slav on her left, Pidge on her right.

“Slav!” Allura called, making a movement like she was going to aim towards him, only to fake out and throw the Quaffle towards Pidge right as Lotor got between Allura and Slav.

Pidge then passed the ball back to Allura, and the crowd cheered when the Quaffle went through the hoops.

A moment later, play once again resumed, and Pidge was running downfield with the Quaffle, Slav in the middle this time as Pidge ran down the side of the field. 

“Slav, catch!” Pidge shouted.

A number of things happened in this moment.

Haggar took aim with a Bludger.

Haxus got into position near Slav.

Slav ducked with a yelp.

And Pidge kept running for the hoops, ignoring the ‘Oooh’ that came from the crowd as Haggar’s Bludger collided with Haxus’ face.

Just because it was friendly fire didn’t mean it didn’t have the force to knock Haxus right off his broom.

But the whistle didn’t blow until the Quaffle had soared through Galra Tech’s hoops.

Unfortunately for Galra Tech, Haggar’s Bludger had caused Haxus’ nose to bleed, resulting in a substitution for a girl with the name ‘Trugg’ on the back of her jersey. No one on the Galra Tech side seemed happy about this, and Allura looked positively giddy.

“Trugg is a back-up Keeper and Beater,” She explained to Pidge. “She doesn’t typically play Chaser.”

By the time the substitution had been made and the game had restarted, the Snitch was released. However, the release of the Snitch seemed to give the Galra players much more confidence, and moments later, Lotor put the Quaffle through the hoop.

Encouraged by the goal and the cheers from the Galra supporters, Lotor was ready to score again. He had the Quaffle, he was running towards Altea’s hoops, Shiro was ready to block the shot, the Quaffle left Lotor’s hand…

And his eyes widened as the Quaffle just barely grazed the tips of Shiro’s fingers, the ball bouncing off the rim.

“No!” Haggar cried out, but it was too late.

Thace, as Snitch Referee, blew his whistle.

Zarkon stood with the Snitch in his hand, turning to face his team, his eyes widening as realization sunk in.

He had thought Lotor’s play was going in the hoop.

So he had grabbed the Snitch.

One more goal, and the Galra could have won, the Snitch being worth enough points to guarantee victory.

Instead, the teams were tied.

Both teams feeling disheartened, they went to their benches for water before going into overtime.

“I’m sorry,” Lance said as soon as he got to the bench.

“It’s not your fault, Lance,” Shiro assured him, but still grimacing. Overtime was the one situation they were hoping to avoid at all costs.

“You gave Zarkon a run for his money for nearly ten minutes,” Hunk pointed out, slinging a comforting arm over Lance’s shoulder. “That’s more than some other Seekers can say. And none of them spent the night in a hospital bed tending to their fresh-out-of-emergency-surgery boyfriend.”

Lance didn’t look very reassured.

“We can do this,” Shiro said. “And even if we don’t win, no one can say that we didn’t fight, that we didn’t pour our heart and soul into this match.”

“We can do it,” Pidge echoed, determination in her voice. “The fight is more important than the final score.”

“We’ve made it this far, I’m not leaving unsatisfied one way or another,” Allura added.

“We’ve kicked Galra butt this long, we can do it for another five minutes,” Matt said, adjusting his headband.

“Then let’s do it,” Shiro said.

The Altean Lions took the field again, facing disgruntled but confident Galra players.

Allura once again stared down Lotor at the center of the field, all waiting for Kolivan’s call of “Brooms up!” and the whistle.

The next four minutes largely consisted of the Quaffle being passed between both teams, with hits by Bludgers intermittent.

No one was getting close to either set of hoops, despite mounting frustration and determination.

Until the Altean Chasers managed to get close, the Quaffle tucked under Allura’s arm, Pidge and Slav running on the wings, ready for passes.

“Pidge!” Allura called, throwing the ball to her teammate right before a Bludger could strike her shoulder. Pidge caught the Quaffle, watching as Allura stumbled slightly. The older girl gave Pidge a remorseful look as she immediately ran back towards Altea’s hoops as fast as she could.

The clock was running down. Pidge had only the Quaffle and Slav to utilize to get the ball past Sendak and through Galra’s hoops.

She thought she saw an opening.

Pidge threw the ball as hard as she could…

Only to have her heart drop at watching Sendak use a fist to block the shot, smirking at her slightly.

But the Quaffle was still in play.

From hitting Sendak’s fist, the Quaffle flew through the air.

And collided with Slav’s forehead, knocking the Pakistani boy backwards, flailing and yelping as he hit the ground.

Not seeing this, Sendak lowered his arm…

And the Quaffle soared through the hoop.

Instead of cheering, there was only stunned silence.

From the stands, Zethrid could be heard yelling “THE QUIZNAK?!?!?”

Was it legal to score off of a header? Was this a good goal?

All eyes on the field instantly turned to Kolivan.

Kolivan’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide, the whistle falling out of his mouth. Pidge hadn’t known him that long, but had thought the military school’s captain was entirely unflappable until this point. “Uh,” He said, reaching into his pocket, then remembering to signal a time out when he had his phone in his hand. “Uh, hang on a second…”

The other refs gathered around as Kolivan quickly brought up the official Quidditch rules on his phone, the four of them debating in hushed whispers.

Pidge, Allura, Shiro and the others used this opportunity to rush over to Slav, who sat up and looked around.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did we win?” He blanched. “Oh no, are we all dead? I knew not all of us would survive in this reality…”

“We’re not sure if we’ve won, and I don’t think we’re dead,” Shiro assured Slav, helping him to his feet. “You all right? You took a Quaffle to the head.”

“I am not feeling any symptoms of a concussion. I remember being hit by that ball, for one,” Slav said, brushing dirt off of himself, conceding to letting Allura check his pupils for dilation.

“You’ll be fine,” Allura proclaimed as Hunk passed Slav a water bottle.

“What’s taking them so long to make the call?” Matt said, twisting off the cap of his own water bottle.

“To be fair, I don’t think anyone thought that what just happened was possible when they made the rules for Quidditch,” Hunk said.

Kolivan and the other referees seemed to come to an agreement and Kolivan took a step forward to address the watching crowd.

“After reviewing the rule book,” Kolivan said in his booming voice. “My colleagues and I can determine no reason to not declare the goal as good. Though not typically a way to score, there is no indicator in the rule book that a goal could not be scored using one’s head. Ten points are to be awarded to Altea. To accommodate the delay in play, there will be an additional one minute of play.”

The Altean fans cheered and even the Galra team and fans seemed satisfied with the call.

Play restarted. Galra Tech started with the Quaffle, but Trugg lost the ball when hit by a Bludger from Matt. Pidge obtained the Quaffle after that, but her pass to Allura was intercepted by Lotor.

Lotor headed straight for Altea’s hoops, where Shiro was ready and waiting. He ran this way and that way, trying to confuse Shiro as to what angle he’d be coming from. 

Lotor’s eyes seemed to gleam as he lifted the ball, his aim unclear.

The Quaffle left Lotor’s hand…

It was headed straight for a hoop farthest from Shiro, a straight-clear shot.

Then, just in time, Shiro’s hand blocked the path of the Quaffle, sending it down to the ground instead of through the hoop.

The Quaffle bounced once on the ground and Shiro quickly scooped it up, tossing it to Allura, who caught it and turned to run—

_TWEET TWEET TWE-EEET_

The crowd roared as Allura dropped the Quaffle, throwing her broom in the air over her head as she cried out to her team, “WE’RE GOING TO REGIONALS!”

The Altean Lions had done it. They had beat Galra Tech. They were going to Regionals.

There was much screaming and cheering and hugging.

Pidge turned, looking for the one person whose reaction she wanted to see most of all.

To her surprise, he was already heading towards her, grinning widely and near to crying tears of joy.

Pidge grinned, and rushed to meet Shiro halfway, arms open for a celebratory hug.

She crashed into him, his arms wrapping tightly around her, her arms around his neck, their broomsticks at their feet.

“WE DID IT!” She yelled. “We did it! We won! We—”

Her words were cut off as he pressed his lips to hers.

It took her by surprise, at first, but the kiss made her very happy, made her heart sing.

She didn’t remember closing her eyes, but she remembered opening them when Shiro pulled back.

And feeling her heart sink at seeing his mortified expression.

They stared at each other, silence surrounding them as the chaos of celebrating happened around them.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said suddenly. “Pidge, I’m…”

Then, he turned and ran off the pitch.

Without a second thought, she ran after him.


	42. Shiro

_What were you thinking?_ Shiro scolded himself. _You can’t just go around kissing people! Even if it is someone you like a lot! She’s going to hate you now for sure, you complete and utter—_

“Shiro! Shiro, wait up, Shiro!”

Pidge. Pidge was following him, calling after him.

He picked up his pace.

“Shiro! My legs are too short for this nonsense!”

He came to a screeching halt, panting and gasping for breath, his heart pounding, eyes watering, entire body trembling.

Behind him, he heard Pidge come to a stop, too, trying to catch her breath.

“Shiro,” She panted. “We need to… We need to talk… About what just happened. What’s been happening.”

Shiro couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He just stood there, silent. Frozen.

“Come on,” Pidge groaned. “You don’t just get to give me the best kiss of my whole life, then run away like that!”

This had to be a crazy dream, right? He was still in bed asleep, wasn’t he? Slav played Quidditch, they beat Galra Tech, he kissed Pidge… All of that could only happen in his wildest dreams.

“Takashi Shirogane, I swear, if you don’t talk to me right this instant, I will make your life miserable and force you to talk! I know where you live! I know where you work! I know where your parents live! I know how to hack the registrar’s office to get your class schedule!”

Shiro felt himself sitting on the ground, putting his head in his hands.

Nope, this was not a crazy dream.

“Shiro?” Pidge said, her voice a lot softer now as she placed her hand on his shoulder, sitting down beside him on the grass.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled out. “For kissing you.” He paused, then added, “Well, I’m also kind of not sorry. I’m sorry I did it without asking you if it was okay first.”

“I’m a little less concerned about that.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He made the mistake of glancing over and seeing Pidge’s burning brown-sugar eyes boring into him.

“Well, people tend to get upset when the person who just kissed them runs away looking like they just made the biggest mistake of their life and are trying to get away from some hideous bad-kissing monster.” She said dryly.

Well, quiznak.

“Um. Sorry. That wasn’t… That is to say, it was a very good kiss. For me.”

“It was for me, too,” Pidge said. Her gaze softened and she looked at her toes. “What was it you wanted to tell me yesterday? When we were sitting in the stairwell, right before Matt called?”

Shiro swallowed.

Somehow, he had felt braver having this conversation yesterday, when he had already spilled his guts to her.

Granted, he then chickened out the first chance he got. But still.

He inhaled deeply, then spat out, “I like you, Pidge. I like you in a way that I’ve never liked anyone before. I like you as a friend, but also romantically and physically. And I… I don’t know anymore. I thought I was finally starting to figure myself out again, then the one thing that I’ve been steadfastly confident about since I was thirteen—that I am ace—suddenly got upended and I think maybe I’m demi? I’m still somewhere on the asexual spectrum, I know that, but I… I’m sorry. Because I shouldn’t be dumping this on you, shouldn’t be feeling this way about you, because of all the ways I’ve hurt you in the short time that we’ve known each other.

“And I… I just needed to tell you. Just needed to come clean. So that I can get over it, and then we can both get on with our lives. Because I know I’m not what you need from a romantic partner, and you deserve so much more. You are so wonderful, and I don’t ever want to hurt you unknowingly again. You deserve someone who actually has their life together, and someone who is whole in mind and body, and has figured themselves out. And I just—”

“Shut. Your. Quiznak.”

The words died in Shiro’s throat at her growl.

If he thought her eyes were burning before, they were a sun going supernova now. He fell backwards on the grass as she jumped to her feet, whirling around to stare down at him, her finger in his face.

“Now you listen here, Takashi Shirogane, I will not listen to that crap coming out of your mouth!” She snapped. “Number one, _I_ am the only one who knows exactly what I need from a romantic partner! No one else! Not you, not Matt, not my parents, not anyone else! Me! Number two, you are selling yourself way too short! Do you really believe that being yourself—being asexual, being an amputee, having scars, having PTSD—that any of that makes you any less worthy of being loved? That is the biggest stinkiest load of quiznak I have ever heard in my life, and I’ve heard quite a bit, Shiro! And third of all, I still like you, you nitwit! I like you, I liked you the moment I met you! I never got over my stupidly fat crush on you, and I don’t think I will for quite some time! You’ve made some mistakes. So have I. You know what happens after you make a mistake? You do everything you can to fix it. All of the mistakes you’ve made, you’ve gone to an effort to fix, until everything is right with the world for one stupid minute. That’s something I admire about you, by the way, because it just shows how much you care about others.

“And number four, I don’t care that you’re ace! It’s one of the things that makes you _you_. When I want a relationship, I don’t want something that is purely based on the physical stuff—and I won’t lie, I was primarily attracted to your physical stuff! But I don’t want to just jump into bed with the first guy I think is cute and believe that I could make a meaningful, lasting relationship work out of that! I want to be with someone who makes me happy! Who goes to great efforts to help me, to make me laugh, to cry with me, to talk with about anything and everything, who doesn’t care that I sometimes rant or get moody and doesn’t get offended that sometimes I spend days focused on a project and maybe never talk to another human being. I only really started to crush on you when I realized that you were that kind of person! I like you for you, for everything you are, including what you believe to be flaws! 

“I love you!”

Her declaration hung in the air between them and they stared at each other for a long moment.

She loved him?

She loved him!

Wait, she loved him?

Maybe this was a crazy dream, after all.

“You like me?” He questioned, pointing at himself.

Pidge put her hands on her hips, her lips in a small pout. “Yes, idiot. I’ve been saying that for like the last five minutes now.”

“Me?” 

“You.”

“Seriously?”

“Very.”

“Why?”

“WERE YOU NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO ANYTHING I JUST SAID!?!?!”

“No, I was, I just…” Shiro sighed. “I’m sorry. I just can’t wrap my head around this.”

“Well you better!” Pidge snapped, stomping her foot. “Because I like you! And you can do nothing to stop me!”

“Okay, okay,” Shiro said, smiling softly. “I believe you.”

_She liked him._

Shiro climbed to his feet and stood in front of Pidge for a moment. “Can… Can we start this whole conversation over to some extent?”

“Depends on what you want to say,” Pidge said a bit warily.

Shiro’s smile grew. “I’ve liked you for quite some time, Katie Holt. If it isn’t too much trouble, may I take you out on a date? A real one this time?”

Pidge’s entire being softened and she smiled at him, tears in her eyes. “I’ve liked you for a long time now, too, Takashi Shirogane. I would love to go out with you.”

Shiro wasn’t sure who began the embrace, but just knew that he was standing there, Pidge in his arms.

He didn’t know who initiated the kiss first, just remembered it being slow, hesitant, shy.

He remembered sighing her name, the frantic whisper of his own name coming out of her lips.

Then the whisper became a little more frantic.

“Shiro! Shiro, we kind of abandoned everyone back at the Quidditch pitch!” She said, looking up at him.

The Quidditch pitch.

Galra Tech.

Regionals.

They beat Galra Tech.

They were going to Regionals.

They were going to Regionals!

Wait, how long had they been gone?

“We should head back, finish this later,” Shiro said, grabbing her by the hand.

Fortunately, they weren’t too missed, though their absence was noticed.

“There you two are,” Kolivan said as Shiro and Pidge reappeared. “I was about to organize a search party.” Then he glanced down at their clasped hands, and raised an eyebrow. Shiro caught a hint of a smirk on Kolivan’s face before he composed himself. “You should probably get your team to go shake hands with the Galra now.”

There was an implied _like you should have before you ran off with your girlfriend_. But Shiro elected to ignore that.

Before Shiro could form a response, or even move to gather his team, he heard a voice drawl, “Well, well, well. Congrats, Little Lioness. It more ways than one.”

When Pidge hesitated, Haggar’s smile became a little softer, less intense. The goth girl put her hand on Pidge’s shoulder and said, “Really. I am happy for you. I knew he’d get his act together eventually. The best ones do, in the end.” 

“You speak from experience,” Pidge noted, smiling back at Haggar.

Haggar scoffed slightly. “You know how long it took my boyfriend to finally stop dancing around his feelings, only to awkwardly blurt out ‘I like pretty you go date me?’? Three years, seven months, two weeks, and three days. Tenth grade. We’ve been together ever since. You two are about as cute as we are.” Her grin once more became wicked. “Doesn’t mean we’re going easy on you next season. Regionals is our rightful turf. But it’s nice to have some decent competition for a change.”

With that, she pat Pidge on the shoulder, then turned and rushed over to Zarkon, linking her arm with his, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek to get his attention. “Zar, let’s shake hands and go get some ice cream. I think we’re going to need a lot of it.”

Zarkon smiled down at her and pressed a kiss to the darkening roots of Haggar’s dyed hair. “I think you’re right, my little angel of darkness.”

“Ugh, is it not bad enough that we lost so that we are now subjected to your incessant canoodling?” Lotor groaned, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “Being seen with you two when you’re like this is like being out in public with parents who still call each other Pookie and Gumdrop!”

Shiro, Pidge and Kolivan stood in silence for a moment. Then Pidge said, “Uh. Did you two know? That they were dating?”

“Nope.” Shiro said, shaking his head.

“This is new information.” Kolivan said. “Some that I am not necessarily sure that I needed.”

Kolivan walked away, shaking his head and grumbling. 

Shiro glanced down at Pidge, and Pidge looked up at Shiro.

Then, for reasons unknown to the both of them, they laughed.

It seemed like a good thing to do when you were happy.

*****

“So?” Pidge said as she and Shiro walked towards the back of the group, loaded with grocery bags full of ice cream, paper bowls and plastic spoons. It had been unanimously decided that the celebration of the win and the upcoming trip to Regionals should be held with all of the team present, so—after getting cleaned up, speaking with respective family members and a trip to the grocery store—the team was headed straight for Keith’s hospital room. “Should we tell them, or should we wait until after we have a first real date?”

“I say we tell them,” Shiro said. “No reason to keep it a secret. Besides, these are our friends and family. The people who care about us, and we care about them. They’ll be happy.”

Pidge grinned at that, linking her pinky finger with his. “Yeah, they will be.”

They met each other’s eyes, and their smiles grew.

They were just getting started, they had a lot of work to do if they wanted a relationship to not only work but last.

But to Shiro, everything felt just like magic.

When they arrived at Keith’s room, they found Mrs. Shirogane waiting outside, and between giving everyone hugs she explained that the surgeon was checking in on Keith and examining him, and that they could all go in when he was done.

While they waited, Pidge sent a text to her parents, and grinned when she received one in return. She tapped Shiro’s arm and showed her the screen. He couldn’t help but grin.

The text from Dr. Gunderson was full of various celebratory emojis, including praise hands, confetti, fireworks, and hearts. The actual message read: **It’s about time my favorite daughter got together with my favorite patient! I’m so happy for the two of you and I want to hear all of the details, so you better call me when you’re done celebrating your well-deserved win!**

As Shiro finished reading the message, another one dinged on Pidge’s phone: **Your father says he’s happy for you, Kit-Kat, but that he’s mad that you didn’t tell us when he could still give Shiro a “So you want to date my baby girl” talk.**

Another message dinged. **(He’s teasing, he likes Shiro, too!)** A stream of heart emojis followed that one.

“Your mom has never struck me as the kind who uses that many emojis,” Shiro observed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her use more than one at a time before, and the only the eye-roll one at that,” Pidge said with a small laugh. “So she’s either really happy or she’s been abducted by aliens.”

“We’ll go with the former,” Shiro said as the surgeon stepped out, surprised to see the small crowd but chuckled as he sent them in.

Okaa-San had mentioned that Keith had been napping off and on since they had left earlier, and Shiro was pleased to note that Keith looked a little more rested and more alert than he had that morning, his eyes clearer and he grinned when he saw his teammates.

“This belongs to you,” Matt said, tossing the black Beater’s headband into Keith’s lap. “You’re going to need it for Regionals.”

“Can’t take the heat of being a Beater, Holt?” Keith teased.

“Not going to delude myself into thinking I’m anywhere as good as you,” Matt countered. “Going to need the absolute best for Regionals.”

“I’ll be there,” Keith said, wrapping the headband around the wrist of the arm not attached to the IV.

“He specifically asked the doctor if he’d be well enough to play in three weeks,” Otou-San said with a laugh.

“As long as I rest up and everything looks like it healed well at my post-op appointment, I can,” Keith declared.

Though most of the day felt like a crazy dream, Shiro couldn’t remember a time when so many things were going right, when things had drastically improved overnight.

“Alright, Allura made me promise not to pester you about this until we got here,” Lance said once ice cream was served. “But what did Dean Iverson say when you two talked earlier, Shiro?”

Shiro grinned at that. “Well, that’s part one of the good news. Dean Iverson said that Altea has never had a winning season in anything before, let alone make it to any sort of regional competition, and that we definitely proved that we could keep the team under the university’s name.”

“So we’re definitely playing next season?” Hunk asked excitedly.

Shiro nodded. “Dean Iverson said we’re still going to have to find our own funds—sponsors and fundraisers—but he sees no reason to disband the team.”

A cheer went up through the room at that.

“You know,” Mitsu said as she added more sprinkles on top of her ice cream. “I really liked doing the play-by-play commentator thing. It was fun.”

“Rax works in AV for the other sports. Maybe he could set you up with a microphone so you could be a commentator for the crowd in the fall.” Shay suggested.

“That would be so cool!” Mitsu exclaimed.

“Just promise us you do it in the style of Lee Jordan,” Lance said. “You know, for authenticity.”

“It would be my honor to be such a great Quidditch commentator’s spiritual successor,” Mitsu declared, hand on her chest.

“You said that there was other good news, Shiro?” Allura said, glancing at the captain.

Shiro looked at Pidge beside him, who smiled and nodded. Without a second thought, Shiro took her hand, squeezed her fingers, then looked up at the room.

“After the match today, I asked Pidge out on a date. For real, this time.”

There was stunned silence for a moment, then Mitsu leapt to her feet, throwing her hands—still clutching bowl and spoon—in the air and shouted “YES! YES! YES! YES!”. 

“It’s about time,” Keith said, smirking slightly. “Shinji, Mitsu and I were running out of ways to wingman for you, Shiro.”

“And you’re lucky, too, because we were seriously thinking about locking you two in a closet and blasting a Spotify playlist full of pining love songs,” Shinji said, grinning broadly.

“Aw, come on!” Lance groaned, throwing his head back dramatically.

Rolo grinned and held his hand out, palm-up. “Pay up, Lance.”

Lance pulled his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, slapping it in Rolo’s hand irritably. “You two couldn’t have kept up this pining thing for just one more week? I mean, I’m totally happy for you two, because seriously this has gone on long enough, but you couldn’t help a bro out?”

“What he means to say is, we are so incredibly happy for you two!” Allura said, embracing Pidge, then Shiro.

“But we’re also thoroughly overjoyed that the pining is officially over,” Nyma said, smirking.

“Yep,” Matt agreed. He held his fist out for Pidge to bump. “Way to score, little sis.”

“Congrats,” Shay said. “May this real date be the first of many more.”

Okaa-San put a hand to her chest and smiled brightly, tears in her eyes as Otou-San wrapped his arm around her. They didn’t need words to tell their son that they were happy with this development.

To his surprise, Shiro felt a fist lightly punch him in the side and he looked over to see Slav, who looked slightly smug, his hands on his hips as he said, “See? I _told_ you everything would work out in your favor in this reality, that the probabilities were in your favor. Do you finally accept the truth?”

Shiro smiled. “Yes, Slav, I accept the truth about this reality. You were right, all along.” Shiro’s smile turned into a grin and he threw an arm around Slav’s shoulders. “So, Slav, what number is the best to put on your jersey for next season in this reality?”

Slav’s face turned blank and he looked up at Shiro with wide-eyes. “Shiro, I am glad to have had the opportunity to play today, and I am glad that we won. But I will never, ever play Quidditch again. In this reality or any other. It is far too stressful. I am more than content to continue to be a spectator and leave the game to the professionals.”

Shiro couldn’t help but laugh, couldn’t stop smiling.

He couldn’t imagine a better reality to live in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue will be posted on Wednesday or Thursday!


	43. Epilogue

Pidge smiled as she finished pinning the last photo to the corkboard above her dorm room desk. All happy memories from the summer.

A photo of her and her family at the student showcase, her prototype having been a crowd favorite.

Ticket stubs of the films she had gone to see with Shiro. Real dates, this time.

A photo Mitsu had taken of Allura, Shay and Pidge, sitting and eating popsicles while laughing on the sidelines between matches at Regionals.

A team photo of the Altean Lions hefting the Regionals trophy, along with the headline from the school newspaper about their win.

A picture she took at the pick-your-own blueberry patch they had stopped at on their way home from Regionals, Keith in the background tossing a blueberry into Lance’s open mouth while in the foreground Slav stood in front of a bush, a finger to his chin, trying to determine the best ones to pick. Beside that picture was Hunk with the blueberry cobbler he had made with their pickings.

A photo of her and Matt with sparklers on the Fourth of July.

A pair of solar eclipse glasses beside a photo of her and Shiro wearing said glasses, excitedly waiting for the sky to temporarily darken.

A photo of Hunk and Shay, both dressed in tartans, from the local Highland games.

Another team photo, hoisting the much smaller third place trophy at Nationals, but everyone still proud and happy of their victory.

Pidge and the rest of the team had been completely stunned when the organizer of Nationals approached them about the possibility of hosting a World Cup at Altea two years in the future. Coran, who was there with Professor Arus to support Allura, immediately stepped in and said that, as Athletic Director of Altea, he would love to have the school host a tournament, but would need to discuss this with Dean Iverson. Coran then proceeded to call Dean Iverson, putting the call on speakerphone.

Dean Iverson loved the idea, and, more importantly, the revenue and attention Altea would be getting.

“It is so difficult to find schools with so much support for their Quidditch teams,” The organizer commented.

Pidge tried to hide a smirk as she could practically hear Dean Iverson stand up straighter. “We are proud of all of our athletes here at Altea,” Dean Iverson declared. “Especially our Quidditch Team. In fact, we are showing our pride and appreciation by improving their internal funding this fall. Aren’t we, Coran?”

“Oh, yes,” Coran said jovially, winking at the college students who could barely contain their excitement. “Perhaps the greatest idea to have ever come from the minds of Altea.”

Pidge could have sworn that Shiro was nearly in tears from being so happy.

The Quidditch team was not only saved, but it was about to flourish in ways they had never imagined.

Pidge smiled as she picked up the last thing to pin up, and the thing that had the most significance to her. Her certificate of participation in the showcase, with her name—Katelyn Holt—printed in curly black letters.

Her phone rang and she picked it up, her grin growing as she saw Shiro’s name. “Hey, babe,” She said, answering.

“I’m downstairs, ready to go if you are,” Shiro told her.

“Be right down,” Pidge said. She hung up her phone, tucked it into her purse, then grabbed the duffel bag on her bed.

The results of the showcase for Pidge were even more surprising and even more welcome than those the Quidditch team experienced.

One of Altea’s alumni, pediatric oncologist Dr. Larmina, saw Pidge’s prototype and asked her if she had begun clinical trials. Pidge admitted she hadn’t, and Dr. Larmina gave her the opportunity of a lifetime. She had a young patient in remission, whose arm had to be amputated due to an aggressive form of cancer and she was healed enough for a prosthetic. Pidge spent all summer working on making a second prototype, complete with some new additions and upgrades, and now a week before classes began she was about to meet the patient for the first time.

However, Dr. Larmina had called her a few days before with some concerns, and was about to cancel the entire trial. Upon hearing the doctor’s concerns, Pidge asked in response if she could bring Shiro along and explained why. Dr. Larmina checked with the patient’s mother, and they both approved.

Now they just had to hope that it would work.

Pidge and Shiro walked in to the children’s hospital, hand in hand as they went towards a special playroom near Dr. Larmina’s office.

The patient, a six-year-old girl named Betty with dark skin and curls that were starting to grow back, sat on her mother’s lap, her body positioned to hide her missing arm. Betty’s mother, who looked simultaneously happy and exhausted, smiled as she shook Pidge’s hand first, then Shiro’s.

Pidge then knelt down to Betty’s eye level, giving her a smile. “Hi, Betty. My name is Pidge. Did your mom and Dr. Larmina tell you that we have something for you?”

Betty scowled. “I don’t want it. I want _my_ arm back.”

“Betty…” Her mother scolded as she gave Pidge an apologetic look.

Pidge expected that response, so she waved her hand slightly. Over the phone, Dr. Larmina had explained that she, Betty’s mother, and the rest of Betty’s caregivers had not realized that the little girl had not fully comprehended what had happened when she was told that her arm would be amputated until after the appointment with Pidge had been set. Betty had apparently misunderstood despite everyone’s best efforts to explain to her what was happening, and thought that the doctors would remove her arm, get rid of the cancer there, and then put it back when they were done. She was devastated to learn that this was not the case.

And that was why Pidge brought Shiro.

“Betty, before I bring out the prosthetic, I want to introduce you to someone else.” She gestured for Shiro to join her in kneeling in front of Betty. He did so, and Pidge gestured to Shiro. “This is my boyfriend, Shiro.”

“Nice to meet you, Betty,” Shiro said, offering her a wave.

Just as Pidge had hoped, Betty’s eyes went wide as she saw the metal of Shiro’s arm, her gaze going up the length of his arm, to where the prosthetic was attached under the sleeve of his t-shirt. She immediately sat up, her mouth gaping slightly as she said, “You have a robot arm!”

“I do,” Shiro said. He offered his robot hand out towards her. “You can touch it if you want.”

Betty did, her eyes full of wonder as she ran her fingers over the cool, shiny metal. Then she looked up at him again an exclaimed, “You’re a robot!”

“Not exactly,” Shiro said with a chuckle. “I just have a robot arm.” He rolled up his sleeve to show her where the prosthetic was attached. Then he reached up and detached the prosthetic, resting it on his knees and raising the residual limb up for her to see. “See? All human, except for the arm.”

“We match!” Betty exclaimed with delight as she held up her own stump for him to see. “Did you have cancer, too?”

“No,” Shiro said. “I was in a bad accident when I served in the Army. Can I ask you a question, since you asked me one?”

Betty seemed to think this was fair, and nodded.

“Why do you want to have your own arm back?”

Betty looked a little sad, but said, “Because I wanna play softball, and I wanna pitch like Aunt Jessie.” She perked up slightly to declare proudly, “Her team went to state championships this year and I wanna be like her when I grow up!” But then her smile faded and she glared at her own arm. “But I can’t do that without my hand.”

“I see,” Shiro said, nodding. “I know what you mean. I know why you want it back.”

“Did you want your arm back?” Betty asked. “When they took it?”

As Pidge listened to the conversation, Betty’s word choice struck her.

She didn’t view their limbs as “lost”. “Lost” meant found and returnable.

She said “took”. It was stolen from her. And she wanted it returned so desperately.

Shiro nodded. “Yeah. When I was in the Army, I was a pilot. I loved airplanes, ever since I was your age. And all I wanted to do was grow up and fly my own airplane. And I finally got to do it. Then I had my accident. I was angry for a very long time after that. I was sad, too. I wouldn’t get to fly again. But you know what happened?”

“What?” Betty asked.

“I was reminded of all the things I could still do, and the people who loved me even though I was sad and angry and all around grumpy to be around. And then a very nice but also kind of scary woman named Dr. Gunderson gave me a new arm.” Shiro reattached his prosthetic and wiggled the fingers. “It wasn’t my own. It was difficult to use at first. It was different. Felt different, looked different. I didn’t like it at first. Then I got to learn how to use it. And I learned all the things that I could do. I could go to school, I could get a job, I could write or use a mouse for a computer, I could play video games with my brother and sister. I also learned to play a new sport, one that I love very much.” He reached over and took Pidge’s hand in his, giving the fingers a squeeze. “And I owe that all to Pidge. She made me my robot arm before I even met her. She’s the reason that I am able to do the things I love with the people I love. And Pidge wants to help you do that, too, by giving you your own robot arm.”

Betty suddenly looked really hopeful and looked between her mother and Dr. Larmina before landing her eyes on Pidge. “Does a new robot arm mean that I could still play softball?” She asked.

“Yes,” Pidge said. “But first, you’d have to work up to it. You won’t be leaving here today pitching fastballs, and I can’t even promise you that you’ll be able to do that a month from now. But someday, yes, with a lot of hard-work and practice, you’ll be able to do it. Now, are you ready to see your robot arm?”

Betty beamed and nodded.

Pidge pulled over the duffle bag and hefted it onto the table. She encouraged Betty to come over. “You unzip the bag. Like ripping the paper off of a present.”

Betty unzipped the bag and she peered into the bag, her mouth forming a small ‘o’ as Pidge pulled aside the bag to reveal the arm.

“What do you think?” Pidge asked.

“Now I really match Mr. Shiro,” Betty said with delight as she touched the metal arm.

“You ready to try it on, sweetie?” Her mother asked. Betty nodded. Within moments, the prosthetic was attached and Betty was wiggling the fingers.

Pidge, Dr. Larmina and Betty’s mother observed as—in an attempt to help Betty acclimate to the prosthetic—she and Shiro sat at a table with toddler-sized Legos and built a tower. Betty had some trouble initially in concentrating on her movements and her grasp was a little weak, but she was slowly getting stronger, her face glowing with pride in herself.

“So you and Shiro met because you created his prosthetic? You mentioned that he is your mother’s patient,” Dr. Larmina asked Pidge quietly as Betty’s mother videotaped Betty playing with Shiro on her cellphone.

“Well, not exactly,” Pidge said. “We met at school, through a sport called Quidditch, and it was pure, lucky coincidence that I designed the prosthetic he uses.”

Dr. Larmina chuckled. “I don’t think that’s coincidence or luck, honey. I think that’s the stars aligning perfectly, just for you two. It was fate.”

Pidge smiled.

Stars. Fate. Luck. Destiny. Magic.

Whatever it was, words would never be enough to describe how grateful she was.

*****

“That went well,” Shiro said as he unlocked the car.

“Way better than I thought it would,” Pidge said as she hopped into the passenger seat. Once they were in the car and their seatbelts buckled, Shiro went to put the key in the ignition, but paused as Pidge put her hand on his. He looked over at Pidge, her smile bright and eyes shining. “Thank you, Shiro. For coming out here with me today. It meant a lot to me, and it made a world of difference to Betty.”

Shiro leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, for giving me the opportunity.”

He knew it was an opportunity he would have chosen not to take advantage of six months ago. Before Pidge.

He knew he could only get better, only feel better, only continuously heal. For the rest of his days, he would never feel or act or think like he had before his time in the Army, before he lost—

No. What was the word Betty used?

_“Did you want your arm back? When they took it?”_

Took.

His arm was taken. By war, by actions of himself and others. Gone and not returned. It had taken a good part of his life away, too.

But he still had his life.

And he was going to live it to the fullest. Just as he hoped Betty would.

It was moments like this, days like this, that reminded him of that.

These good days were slowly starting to outnumber the bad.

“Hey,” Pidge said, snapping him out of his reverie, squeezing his knee slightly. “You okay, big guy?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Just… Thinking.”

“About?”

“How lucky I am. And how I wished I had someone who had ‘been there, done that’ when I started this process.”

“Is being in that chat group helping?”

Shiro nodded. “It is. Among other things.”

The corner of Pidge’s mouth upturned. “Like Quidditch?”

“Hmm, that’s one of them. But, to be honest, I’m looking at my favorite thing right now.”

He watched Pidge’s cheeks turn red. “Shut up…”

“It’s true.”

“Just turn on the car, already, before you can melt into more of a messy pile of sap.”

“As long as we can melt together.”

“Shiro.” She groaned.

“ _I’ll stop the world and melt with you…_ ” Shiro sang, off-key even as he started the engine.

Pidge groaned again, but it was also mixed with a laugh. “Come on, we’re going to be late. Again.”

“We’re late to Monsters and Mana night one time…”

“Because we made out on your couch for an hour.”

“I really thought our story about the traffic jam caused by a clown strike was believable.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that _you_ missed a smear of _my_ lipstick on your face. The one time I wear lipstick ever.”

“I’m sorry, how could I _not_ kiss you when you’re wearing a shade of pink named ‘Rose Goddess Blush’? Your lips were practically demanding to be kissed, and I am a man of very weak will.”

Pidge snorted at that. “Your will is so weak, you’d kiss me if I was wearing a paper bag and went to the Joker for a make-up job.”

“Okay, I can admit, if you did go to the Joker for a make-over, I’d have to think about it first.”

“Yeah? For how long?”

“Hmm… Forty-five seconds, tops.”

Pidge laughed again. She leaned back in her seat, saying, “So, what’s on the agenda for the team meeting part of tonight’s dinner?”

“Practice schedule, the current draft of the game schedule, and reviewing the sponsorship offers, predominately,” Shiro said. “Oh, and talking about doing more Quidditch demonstrations at the local schools.” He suddenly grinned as he pulled into the parking lot of the Mexican restaurant they were meeting at. “And, guess what? We already have people signed up to play this season!”

“Other than us?” Pidge said with some surprise. “Even a week before classes? Before the club fair?”

“Yep. Eight new people,” Shiro said. “Four freshman, two sophomores, a junior and a senior. And it’s all thanks to your social media posts from the tournaments, as well as that piece that the Lions Gazette did on the team after Nationals.”

“This season’s going to be epic,” Pidge said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Yeah, it is,” Shiro said. He met Pidge at her side of the car, offering her his hand. She accepted it and they walked towards the restaurant hand in hand.

In the waiting area, Keith and Lance sat together, Keith’s arm wrapped around Lance’s shoulders as they looked at something on Lance’s phone screen. Keith looked up at hearing the bell above the door jingle.

“Our illustrious captain arrives fashionably late,” Keith informed Lance. To Pidge and Shiro, he said, “Everyone else is at the table, we said we’d wait for you two.”

“Well, we’re here, and we’re starving,” Pidge said. “Let’s go stuff our faces with tacos.”

As Lance and Keith led the way ahead of them, Shiro gently squeezed Pidge’s hand to get her attention. She looked up at him with big, curious brown sugar eyes that asked the question that wasn’t said aloud.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Shiro said. “That I love you, Katie.”

Pidge beamed up at him. “I love you, too, Takashi. But any reason why you wanted to tell me?”

“Because I went way too long without saying it, and I will never, ever, make a horrible mistake like that again.”

“Me, too. I think that means that, by that logic, we have a lot of time to make up for.”

“Do you propose a way of fixing that, Miss Holt?”

“I do indeed, Mr. Shirogane. I propose Netflix and cuddles, straight after dinner.”

Shiro bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I do believe that is a marvelous idea. Proposal accepted.”

“Hey, you two, if you don’t get over here now, we’re ordering for you!” Matt called from the table.

“Shut up, Matt, they’re cute!” Allura fussed, smacking Matt’s shoulder.

“And still in the honeymoon phase,” Shay added, leaning against Hunk’s shoulder happily.

“But first,” Shiro said in a low voice to Pidge. “Tacos.”

Pidge smiled and squeezed his hand. “Tacos.”

As they made their way to the table, a singular thought ran through each of their minds.

This was going to be the best, most magical year yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you everyone who has supported me over the course of this story! Thank you for every comment, kudos, bookmark. Thank you for sticking with me--and Pidge and Shiro--to get through this (very) slow burn, even in the moments I made the pining really unbearable. I really couldn't have done all this without you, and my day has been made many, many times with your kind words and excitement!
> 
> A special shoutout to Empress_Of_Edenia, my very dear friend who was the first to hear about this story, who has been a sounding board for over a year now, who has been an amazing support system, and just in general a fantastic person to know. Thanks for putting up with me!
> 
> Also, this isn't the end for this AU. I have at least three one-shots in progress (two of which are hinted at within the epilogue), and a much shorter story that focuses on Keith, Lance, and the fall Quidditch season at Altea. So stay tuned!


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